Such Is My Life
by dixgrl78
Summary: Sharon Raydor and Andy Flynn have their worlds turned upside down by one innocent remark.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Such Is My Life

Pairing: The Closer - Raydor/Flynn

Rating: M for language, sexual situations

Such Is My Life

"Hey batter, batter, your Momma said to say hi!" Provenza, well into his fourth beer and second dog, yells out from mid-way up the third base line. Beside him, also decked out in Dodger blue, Andy Flynn rolls his eyes as a smile forms.

"You really need some new lines," he chuckles, taking a sip of his bottled water.

"Hey kid, bring me another," his partner waves down the beer vendor while pulling out his wallet. "This drinking for two has a monetary downside, but at least the seats were free."

"Drinking for two?"

"Just consider this your chance to live vicariously through me," Provenza smirks, handing the vendor his money while taking the beer, "Nothing like a cold brew and a sunny day at the park." He holds up the plastic cup, which Flynn taps with his bottle as the two toast the day. "Alright, batter, swing baby swing, just like I did your momma last night."

Flynn laughs, "You know he's from Nebraska right?" His partner shrugs. "So how many hot models have you seen come from there?"

"Flynn, you're not supposed to get into my head, but his," Provenza waves him off before taking another gulp from his beer. "Oh, hello," he chokes out after catching the sight of a buxom blonde a section or so over. Flynn gives her a once over but shakes his head.

"Nah, barely legal"

"Not illegal to look."

The crack of the bat draws their attention back to the game and the men to their feet as the foul ball comes sailing over their heads. They turn to follow the path, catching sight of a pair of teenage boys at the ready. The taller of the two grabs the ball with a barehanded clasp that makes the detectives wince.

"Damn, tough kid," Flynn says, averting his gaze back to the field as he takes his seat. Provenza, however, is still staring at the boy. He flicks his gaze to the big screen, getting a better view of the kid.

"Uh Flynn, you keeping secrets?"

"Huh?"

"I thought I knew all your kids."

"You do, now sit down before you make me miss the next pitch."

"You sure Jesse isn't here today?" Provenza asks as he reluctantly sits, but he can't keep his gaze from the row about two sections over.

"If my kid was here, don't you think he'd be sitting on the other side of me begging to get away from you?"

Provenza purses his lips in a mocking expression. "Fine then, but did you see that kid?"

"It was a great catch."

"I'm not talking about the catch, Flynn. That kid looked like you."

"Ok, I'm cutting you off," Andy quips, reaching for Provenza's beer.

"Hey, I'm not drunk. That kid, up on the screen, Flynn, he looked just like you." He gestures to the jumbotron, now back on the pitcher as he readies to throw.

"Sure, another one of my lost children."

"Joke if you want," Provenza stands, scanning the area around them. When he spies what he's after, he darts up a few stairs to a man holding a pair of binoculars. "Can I borrow those?" The man hesitates, so Provenza whips out his badge. "LAPD, just need them for a moment."

When he returns to their seats, Flynn has his head in his hands. "Can't I take you anywhere?"

"Height, check, hair," he glances from the binoculars to his partner, "check, eyes…damn…don't these things zoom?"

"Really? Can't I just watch the game?"

"I'm telling you, Flynn, this kid…woah wait a minute, oh now that's a beautiful sight."

Flynn looks up at Provenza with a mixture of shock and wariness, and a hint of disgust. "I will take your beer away."

"Hello, momma," the older detective catcalls. "Well, now if that is your kid, and that's his mom, well I can't fault you for keeping her a secret." Provenza is drooling when he winks at Flynn, Cheshire cat grin at full wattage. Flynn, at his limit with his partner's teasing, grabs the binoculars away and uses them to see what his friend is going on about. He finds the kid, shifts his gaze slightly and sees what caught Provenza's attention.

Talking to the kid is a woman with her back to them. Brunette, hard to tell her age, but if she is the mom Flynn is sure she's more legal than Provenza's blonde bombshell, and that is good news. Because like his partner, Flynn's gaze moves down from her Dodger blue jersey to her blue denim skirt and her very long and very attractive legs. He lets out a low whistle.

"I know right, hello come to papa and all that," Provenza smirks. Flynn shifts his gaze back up her body, seeing the back of her head as the ball kid nods at her. He does look a little like his youngest. Flynn guesses the kid's about fifteen, dark hair, gangly body but good looking. "You see it right? He looks like Jesse, doesn't he? Could be his twin if not for the age difference." Flynn shrugs but starts to see what Provenza is getting at. The kid does look familiar.

"Now you can say what you want about Nebraska, but if that kid got his looks from his momma, and if that is his momma, well I think we should move a few rows closer, you know."

"Holy sh—" Flynn gets a jolt when the woman turns round. The sight of her makes him pale, the hand holding the binoculars going limp. Provenza, confused by his friend's sudden mood shift, grabs up the glasses as Flynn slumps back down in his seat.

"Oh my…it can't be," Provenza's eyes widen as his stomach feels queasy. "The wicked witch? I almost had a, but those legs, how the hell can it be? That's just wrong." He joins Flynn, slumping down in his own seat. The binoculars' owner taps his shoulder. "Hmm, what do you want?"

"You done, I mean I really do—"

"Here, take 'em," the dejected detective tosses the glasses to the man. "Sharon f-ing Raydor? What the hell?"

"Yea," Flynn sighs, a sudden headache hitting him, "what the hell."

"Flynn, you and Raydor, I mean if you did, well the legs but…"

"I need to go to the john," Flynn starts up, the need to get away from Provenza as strong as a nagging feeling ripping through his inners.

"Sure, ok, and um could you, you know while you're up and all, get me another?" his partner holds up his nearly empty beer.

"Fine, yea." Andy waits until he's out of Provenza's sight before glancing in the direction of Sharon Raydor and her kid. "There's no way," he whispers before shaking his head and walking to the head.

Fourteen years ago, Andy Flynn was a different guy; in fact, he was a total wreck. Most days he'd wake up with a hangover just to grab a beer or whatever alcoholic beverage he happened to have within arms reach to get through the morning. As soon as his shift ended, he hit the bar and he hit it hard. He knew the guys blamed his ex for his relationship with the bottle and, to be honest, part of it was because of her. When the fighting got to be too much, heading to the bar was a welcomed relief. But once the marriage crashed and burned, Flynn made up different excuses to keep the liquor flowing. He didn't see his kids enough, the bodies were hard to forget, the weather didn't please him, and on and on. The saying in AA is that a person has to hit rock bottom before sobriety can begin. Flynn's bottom had been a straight plummet, a head first dive into a chain of events that started one night over fifteen years before at the annual police officers' ball.

"Lt. Flynn, do you care to take part in the conversation?"

Flynn shakes his head, stands up from his desk and falls back into his job, pushing aside the memories of his life before he was sober. He didn't know why, but since the ballpark, he'd been reliving that time. "Sorry Chief, the vic, a uh Travis Martin, was last seen coming out of a downtown club at 2 a.m. three nights ago."

"So the kid belongs to the Wicked Witch after all. Daniel Raydor, just shy of sixteen, and the youngest of her three."

"Since when are you so interested in Raydor's kids?" Flynn hands Provenza a coffee as they walk back toward the tech room.

"Curious," the detective shrugs. "Plus I saw one of her FID guys this morning on the way in. Just thought I'd ask, you know, in case you were wondering. I know some things from that time are still cloudy."

Flynn stops short, mid-sip of his coffee, fighting not to choke. He swallows hard, clears his throat and wipes at his chin, all the while flashing a death glare at his partner. "There is no way in hell! You seriously need to get a new obsession." Not intimidated in the least, Provenza laughs.

"Come on, Flynn, I don't think I could do it now," Provenza's gaze wonders as he contemplates the thought, "Although she does have some gorgeous legs, but all that ice in her veins. Hell, I bet she's got a leather suit and a whip just waiting for any poor unsuspecting fool." Flynn winces his eyes shut, another headache threatening. "I know, I know, it isn't the best thought."

"Then change the subject."

"But I'm just saying, you said yourself you can't remember much from those years. And even if she was a hard ass, well she did have a hard—" Provenza grins and raises his brows up in a 'you following me' gesture.

"Have you been drinking?" Flynn scowls, brushing past him and into the tech room. Provenza follows him in, determined to continue the conversation, but Flynn is already talking to Buzz. "This our guy?"

"One of them. Chief is about to go in."

"Even though she was a hottie back then she was also a hellcat. You'd had to of been wasted to go there."

"Enough," Flynn spits out through gritted teeth, the image of Sharon Raydor and those long legs wrapped around him, while not an entirely unpleasant thought, was certainly not a welcomed one at the moment. He hated the woman, well perhaps not full out hatred but something in that realm.

"Want to let us in?" Tao turns round from his seat by Buzz to look at the two men.

"Have you noticed the legs on Raydor?"

"Yeah, what a waste," Buzz remarks, punching at his keyboard as the Chief walks into the interrogation room, "Oh here we go."

"What got you thinking about Raydor? She's not breathing down our backs again is she?" The line is too good for Provenza to pass up and Flynn knows it, but before his partner can make a sound, Flynn looks at his coffee in disgust.

"Which one of you made this? It tastes worst than Taylor's."

"Mr. Cruz, I'm Deputy Chief Johnson and I have just a couple of questions for you…" the guys settle down as the Chief begins her investigation.

It's past midnight when Flynn falls into bed. He's dead to the world a second after his head hits the pillow. Deep in REM sleep, Flynn sees himself in a hotel room wrapped in the arms of a woman. Her soft hair, dark brown with hints of red, brushes against his chest. He grips her hips, groaning when her nails dig into his shoulders. Flynn feels all of her - flushed skin, wet kisses, and even the shift in the mattress she creates as her knees press against the bed - as if this isn't just a dream. She makes these breathy little cries that turn into commands as she reaches her climax. He smirks, tightening his hold on her hips to prolong the moment. He's drunk, because this is a younger version of himself, and being drunk was the norm for this Flynn. He can taste the alcohol in her kisses, so he knows she's drunk too. They're sloppy, their balance off, but it doesn't matter. When she looses her balance and falls to her side in a fit of laughter, he follows her, settling between her thighs. Her sexy, throaty laugh has him bracing on one arm so he can push that long dark hair out of her face to see her eyes.

Andy Flynn's eyes pop open, his mouth incredibly dry. "No fucking way," he groans at the remembrance of the dream. "Provenza, you bastard!"

By dawn, Flynn is on his third pot of coffee. He takes a sip, staring at the notebook in front of him. Moments after waking from the dream, he grabbed the book and wrote down everything he remembered from it. In full investigative mode, Flynn's doing what he does best – tracking down leads. Of course, he'd given a few moments of thought to the idea that all it was all just a dream brought on by Provenza's dumbass cracks. But it was too real, too familiar.

"This is screwed up," Flynn slams down the notepad, running a hand through his hair. "How the hell could I have slept with? Oh shit, the kid." He slumps down on his worn out couch, huffing out a disgusted sigh. Flynn closes his eyes, desperate to recall as much as he can about that night so long ago. After hours of running over the scattered memories again and again, he doesn't have much to go on, other than her face. That face, which no matter how much he tries to change it or deny it, never changes. He can't remember the details, but he's positive Provenza's ribbing hasn't influenced his dream. Nope, he knows for a fact that he slept with her. "Sharon fucking Raydor," he spits out her name, fury building inside him. Why had she never said anything? Deny the sex, fine, but if that kid – Daniel, right? If that kid was his… Flynn glances at his watch and grabs his jacket. Knowing Raydor's strictness, she'd be in by now, and she certainly has a lot of explaining to do.

"Danny, get a move on," Sharon yells toward the stairs as she grabs her jacket and briefcase. Coffee tumbler in hand, she does a last minute check in front of the foyer mirror while waiting on her sleepyhead of a son to tromp downstairs. "Let's go," she calls again, holding out pack of pop-tarts when she hears his steps on the landing.

"I'm up, I'm moving, stopping yelling," he yawns out in rhythm with his heavy footsteps as he comes down the stairs. Dressed in khakis, t-shirt and hoodie, Daniel has a good foot in height over his mother. She grins, ruffling his hair out of his drowsy green eyes.

"You're getting that cut today right?"

"Mom, really? This again?"

"Daniel, I don't care if the latest trend is to have your hair in your eyes like a girl. Do you want to look like a girl?" Her son frowns, grabbing the pop-tarts from her and wrapping whatever comeback he mutters around the food. "Today, I mean it."

"Fine. I'll get it cut after school. Are you working late?"

"I don't think so, but if something comes up…"  
>"You'll call, I know. Did you schedule my driving exam?" He shuffles to the door, holding it open for her.<p>

"Um, about that." She pauses, waiting for him to settle into the passenger side before continuing. "I thought it would be a great opportunity—"

"No, Mom," Danny huffs, tossing his hair from his eyes before reaching for his seatbelt.

"You haven't even heard what I was going to say."

"I know what you're going to say and no. He hasn't come to any of my games this year, so why to you think he'll remember to show up for that?" Sharon backs out of the garage, hits the 'close' door button, and pulls into the street, all the while contemplating her response. "And you can stop trying to defend him. Sometimes makeup babies just don't bring on the makeup. It's cool, okay; I've dealt with it. You just need to get over it also."

"Excuse me? Makeup baby?"

"Really, Mom, I've done the math. You and Dad," Danny says, his voice dripping with sarcasm on the word 'dad,' "had a little fling before calling it officially quits. I'm good. I have you, Lily and Kate so I'm good. If Dad doesn't want to be around, screw him."

"Daniel!" Her son sighs heavily, turning to look out the window as they drive toward his school. She could again go into the speech about how his father really does love him and would be around more if he could, but they both know it isn't true. Rick's communication began to dwindle the day after he left them high and dry. "Fine, then I won't call him, and I'll set up something today. Do you have money for lunch?"

"I'm covered. Oh, the guys want to go out tomorrow. Is that cool?"

"Who, where and how much?" she asks, not taking her eyes of the road.

"Matt, Tyler and Drew, to a movie and $20." He turns to catch her eyeing him before he rolls his eyes. "It's PG-13, Mom, I swear."

"You remember I'm a cop right?"

"You don't let me forget it."

Sharon smirks, pulling up beside her son's school. "Fine, but home by—"

"Curfew, I know."

"And get your hair cut!" she yells out as Daniel walks away. He tosses up his hand as acknowledgement. Sharon smiles, thinking her kids turned out all right despite their dad being one of the biggest jerks to walk the earth. Glancing at the clock on her dashboard, Sharon shifts her Aston into gear. If she wants to make it downtown before the worst of the traffic hits, she's got to get a move on.

While Sharon Raydor may not give him any credit for it, which truthfully he couldn't give a rat's ass about what she thinks anyway, Flynn thinks he deserves a small medal for giving her the chance to get fully in her office before showing up for their unscheduled meeting. Arriving earlier than anyone other than the janitors, he'd asked Becky at reception to give him a call when Raydor got in. Then he'd waited a good five minutes after he got the call that she was in before heading to the elevator and up to FID.

Sharon hangs her bag and jacket on the hook just behind her door. At the sound of a light knock, she barely gets out a "just a minute" before the door swings open. Thankfully her reflexes are good and she dodges out of the path of the door. "Excuse me," she starts, then frowns, "oh hello, Lt. Flynn."

Andy tries hard not to glare at her, but he can feel the blood rushing to his ears. On the way up, just the thought of her holding out on him, of keeping his kid, yea probably his kid, from him made him all the more angry. The little voice of reason in his head that sometimes squeaked out a warning was shouting at full blast at the moment, however Flynn gave no weight to it. Emotions fully in charge, he spits out the first thing that pops into his brain.

"I don't know what you were thinking, but I'm calling you on it. If you think I'm going to let you get away with this any longer—"

Sharon holds up her hand to silence him, sidesteps the detective and closes her office door. She gives him a hard stare before walking toward her desk. She doesn't sit, knowing that doing so will infuriate him even more over whatever he's decided she's done. Instead, she continues to stand, allowing the desk to be a buffer between them.

"Now, Detective, if you'd like to start over by maybe explaining what it is that you think I've done that would be welcomed. Because I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage. Seeing as all my paperwork with Major Crimes has cleared, I'm not sure as to why you have stormed into my office." His eyes go harder, which Sharon hadn't thought possible until the second it happens. She lifts her foot to take another step back, but fights the urge. She didn't get into her position by showing weakness, and she isn't about to show the slightest hint of unease to Detective Lt. Andy Flynn, one of the biggest alpha males in the precinct.

"Oh you'd like it to be business so you could dismiss me and toss me out on my—" Flynn stops himself, making a desperate attempt to regain his composure. He always did have a way of putting his foot in it when he let his emotions rule him. He takes a deep breath and lowers his voice, "You and I have matters to discuss. I don't think we should do so here, but I have things to ask you and you will answer my questions."

Raydor crosses her arms, her chin going up in her little condescending way. "Oh I will?"

"Yes, you will," Flynn says, eating up the space between them in two methodical steps. "If you want to keep our little secret a secret, then you certainly will." His words, full of venom and not lacking in substance considering the conviction in his gaze shake Raydor. Confused, she inadvertently takes a step back. Flynn advances with her, coming around the corner of her desk so there is nothing but air between them. "I know the truth, Sharon," he hisses out her name so hard that his breath brushes against her hair like a breeze.

"The truth?"

"Tonight, 6 p.m. at O'Grady's. I'll give you this chance to explain away from work. If you don't show—"

"You better consider your next words very carefully, Lieutenant. I've been very patient with your conduct here, but if I were you—"

"Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about. I know what happened. I remember what happened. And if he's mine and you kept him from me!"

"Kept? Excuse, I don't know what you think you know, Lieutenant." Flynn ignores the complete confusion in Raydor's face, waving her off with a sideways glance to her door. Movement catches his eye, letting him know her officers are coming in for work.

"Police officer's ball, 1994. Think it over and I'll see you at O'Grady's tonight," Flynn says, contempt plain in his words. "And I'd advise you to carefully consider showing up." Silent and working hard to control her anger, Sharon Raydor watches the Lieutenant flash one last glare at her before leaving her office.

If she were in a giving mood, she'd give him credit for not slamming her door on his way out. But instead, the second he is gone, she falls into her chair, her emotions welling to the surface. Anger, fear, confusion and dread flow over her all at once. The Police Officers' Ball in 1994? What the hell was he going on about? Sharon racks her brain, trying to remember what possibly could have happened between them during that time to make him so angry. However, before she can give much thought to Flynn's outburst there's another knock at her door.

"Yes?"

"Hi Captain, there's been an incident."

"Where Jimmy?"

"Twenty-first and Lex. Officer making an arrest had another perp circle back. Blows exchanged but backup helped him get the second one into custody."

"Witnesses?"

"Suspect's family."

"Great," Raydor sighs, "this is going to be such a fun day."

"Want me to drive?"

"That'd be great, just let me grab my coat."

Once inside the car with Jimmy, Raydor is swept up in her latest investigation. She makes several phone calls to locate those arrested, one in lockup and the other at Cedars. Between coordinating her officers and examining the police officer's dash cam video, her morning and most of the afternoon is fully devoted to clearing the rookie cop. Thankfully his dash cam was working and caught everything.

"I love it when it's cut and dry," Jimmy says after their third viewing of the video.

"Let's get the report typed up and I want copies of that video." Raydor looks at her watch, thinking if she hurries she can get everything squared away in time to get the video to the media for the early evening edition. "The sooner this is out the better."

"That mother was very vocal. I saw channel 12 interviewing her."

"I know, we need to get them a copy right away. Jimmy, I want you to stay here and wrap things up. I'll get Sarah to drop me at the station. If I hurry I can catch Commander Thomas and have this cleared up by 6." The mention of the time makes Sharon pause; Flynn's summons hitting her like a mental slap.

"Captain, you ok?" Jimmy asks, noticing Raydor going suddenly pale.

"Um, haven't eaten much is all," she says, waving him off as her early morning confrontation replays in her mind. "Sarah, let's go," she moves from the rookie officer's car and toward the silver Crown Vic belonging to Sarah.

Raydor is silent on the drive back, but Lt. Sarah Mathers doesn't mind. She focuses on the road, giving her captain some peace, not knowing there is turmoil raging behind Raydor's jade eyes.

"1994, Officer's Ball…" Raydor runs over the phrase in her mind as she stares out the passenger side window. On her lap is a file folder, which she occasionally flips through to prevent Sarah from thinking she's in a talking mood. But her mind is no longer focused on her case, a fact that contributes to her growing annoyance and also anger at Detective Lt. Andy Flynn. How dare he ambush her like that! For all she knew, he had hit the bottle again and used her as a scapegoat for some twisted regret he'd conjured up while in his stupor. But he didn't smell like he'd been drinking, Sharon points out to herself. She sighs, a tension headache forming.

"You okay, Captain?"

"What, oh I'm fine, Sarah. Could use some aspirin."

"Glove box. Want me to stop for water?"

Sharon catches the next street sign, noticing they are about twenty minutes out from the station. "No, I'll make it, thanks."

"So, I hear Danny's getting ready for his driving test. I didn't realize he was almost 16."

The mention of her son brings a smile to Sharon's face, "yeah, some days I can't believe it either."

"My baby brother's a summer baby, so he's already begging to drive anytime one of us has free time."

"Daniel is a fall baby."

"95? Right, when you were pregnant? Man, that was a hot summer."

"1995," Sharon blanches, "the officer's ball in 1994…was it in December?"

"Wouldn't know, Captain. I was just in training," Sarah replies, but Raydor isn't listening, her mind already clicking together the threads of evidence.

With her mind reeling, Sharon has to struggle to get her report finished and to Thomas. However, compartmentalizing is a specialty of hers, as well as delegating. It helps too that the case isn't a difficult one for her to get through. As soon as Thomas signs off on the video, Raydor leaves it to Sarah to get it to the media before heading out. She holds her emotions in check until she is in the parking garage and in the privacy of her car. Sharon leans her head on the leather steering wheel, allowing the memories of that crazy year to return to the forefront of her mind.

Lily was ten, Kate just about to turn eight, and her marriage had finally reached the breaking point. When Danny had quipped he was a makeup baby, he wasn't wrong. She'd been vulnerable at Christmas, and Rick had actually showed up to spend it with the girls. A little too much nostalgia and a little too much wine, combined with Rick's charm, and oh he could be so charming when he wanted out of the pre-nup. The clear light of the next morning along with a massive headache had slammed her back into the reality of the hopelessness of their situation. She knew Rick could never change and that their time together was over. It didn't stop her from wanting to reach out to him a few months later when she could no longer shrug off the missed periods as anything other than her being pregnant, but it did prevent Sharon from doing a head dive into a total meltdown. Instead she picked herself up and decided having a nanny for a while wasn't such a bad thing. Thanks to her inheritance from her Grandmother du Pont, Sharon had the means to do as she pleased career wise.

But the implosion of her marriage couldn't be what Andy Flynn was going on about. She barely knew him back then.

"The Police Officer's Ball…what happened at the ball…" Sharon sinks lower into the driver's seat of her car, tossing her head back against the headrest. She has a tight grip on the wheel, her eyes closed shut as she blocks out everything to concentrate on that night. The ball was in early December that year, she remembers, because it wasn't until a couple of years ago that it was moved to before Thanksgiving.

She'd had another round with Rick that day, his lawyers working overtime to get him out of the pre-nuptial agreement her father had wisely insisted that she make him sign. She remembers that Jameson, her hairstylist, had worked overtime to pamper her into a better mood. Jameson was the only reason she tolerated the flashy events being a part of her family required her to attend. The ball was not nearly as a highbrow affair, but the stress brought on with the political maneuvering at such an event seemed similar.

At some pointed she'd settled at the bar, deciding a daiquiri sounded nice. Then she'd had another and started feeling a bit more relaxed. She was debating a third when one mysteriously appeared.

"He sent it," the bartender had explained with a nod down the bar. "Too pretty to be drinking alone, I think he said." Sharon smirked, tipping the glass toward her admirer before taking a sip. The drink was a little stronger, or she just didn't have as much tolerance for liquor. She really wasn't much of a drinker anyway. A cocktail here and there when required, perhaps wine now and again with dinner, but that was all. The beep of a nearby car being unlocked startles Sharon. Glancing up, she catches her reflection in the rearview mirror. She'd been in the lady's room, her head feeling light. She'd decided to call it a night, head up to the room she'd rented for the evening. When she came out, he was there, waiting.

"Wanna get out of this zoo?" He'd asked, a lopsided grin forming as he caught sight of her room key. She'd said something she thought was clever and he'd chuckled in reply. It was more than nice to have an attractive man laugh at one of her jokes. When he'd offered her his arm, she didn't hesitate. In the elevator up, he'd loosened his tie, and she'd noticed his suit was an old one, fraying some at the cuffs, but he looked good in black. It brought out his eyes, rich and dark.

Sharon gulps back a cry as a wave of nausea rushes over her. "No, no, no," she murmurs, catching the reflection of her panicked eyes in the mirror. The images, once unblocked, hit her in waves – the sloppy kiss that started in the elevator and continued well into her room, his suit on the floor along with her dress, their drunken laughter, passionate cries, and such a restful sleep afterward. Head in her hands, Sharon thinks her brain will explode. "It couldn't be, that night it didn't happen. It didn't…" Sharon stares at her reflection, knowing she can't lie to herself any longer. One look at the clock pulls a curse from her lips. Sharon takes a deep breath, turning over the ignition and shifting into reverse, knowing exactly what she has to do now.


	2. Chapter 2

Flynn decides to give Raydor ten more minutes at about the 6:30 mark. He swirls his cranberry and soda, about to take another sip when a whirlwind enters the bar. At the sight of her, Flynn has a thought that Raydor really is textbook everything. The fury blazing from her eyes is the clear definition of a woman scorned, and in case he had any doubt, the venom in her words at the sight of him wipes it away.

"You, you!" Raydor seethes when she turns the corner of the bar and makes for him. "You asshole," she fumes ever tactful enough to lower her voice to a hiss as she closes in on him.

"Here Stan," Flynn tosses the bartender a twenty as he stands. "Let's take this some place else," he tells her while reaching for her arm. She jerks away, squaring her shoulders and readying for a fight. He thought she'd be upset, but not all out pissed off. "You want to make a scene?"

"Didn't you?" she tosses back.

"I wanted to talk."

Sharon glares at him, contemplating her options. "Fine," she huffs, turning on her heel and walking toward the door. Flynn flashes a grin at Stan before shaking his head and following her out. The moment they step outside, Sharon whips around like a bird of prey readying to strike. This time when Flynn reaches for her arm, he latches on and strongly guides her to his car.

"No, I mean some place private," he says, going into full alpha male mode and cutting her off before she can get into a bigger fury. Raydor scowls, but knows their conversation doesn't need to be overheard, so she settles into the passenger seat and bides her time. Flynn expects to get it full force when he gets behind the wheel. In fact, he's so ready for Raydor's onslaught that her silence throws him to the point of near concern. He never really hated Raydor, but was just thoroughly pissed off at the sight of her for some reason he couldn't quite say until last night. He hesitates before starting the car, glancing over at her. She's staring straight ahead, her face calm and he'd buy it except for the slight tremble of her bottom lip. Flynn mutters a curse under his breath, thinking he may have bit off more than he can chew this time.

"How much do you remember," Sharon asks several stressful moments after he pulls into a parking place at a nearby park. The last rays of sunlight dip behind a row of trees as she waits for his answer. Flynn watches a mother strap her toddler into a car seat as he debates how much to tell her. "I will remind you that you started this trip down memory lane, so let me hear what it is you think you know." He cuts a sideways glance at her, a wave of anger cresting at the sight of her contempt. Chin squared, her arms across her chest and those glasses like armor, is it any wonder that the urge to choke her suddenly comes over him.

"I bought you a drink, you had a room. We had sex. When I woke up, you were gone." He looks at her then, and it dawns on Sharon what this is all about.

She can hardly contain the chuckle. "You're mad because I left you? God, you really are an alpha male." The quip creates a surge of emotion in Flynn, his eyes harden and his mouth draws into a thin line.

"Alpha male?"

"It was a one night stand, Flynn. You didn't think there was going to be strawberries and champagne in the morning did you?"

"So you did remember? You have known about this all along?"

Sharon has the grace to look down. "No, honestly I didn't. It was a rough time for me. I didn't give it much thought. I pretty much forgot about it actually." She glances out the window, noticing the parking lot is empty except for them. When she turns back, Flynn is still glaring at her. "What? Why are you so upset about this now?"

"You forgot?"

"Flynn, I was getting a divorce. I had two children to deal with and then I found out—"

"You were pregnant," he says with a hint of steel in his voice.

"Yes, I did," Sharon coolly replies. "I don't understand what that has to do with anything."

"You really think I'm that pathetic?" Flynn shifts in his seat, turning to face her straight on. "You may outrank me, Captain, but I'm a damn good cop and I know how to solve a case, too. Don't think you can blow smoke up my ass and I won't see it."

"What the hell are you getting at Flynn?"

"What am I getting at? Oh I'll tell you, Captain. I saw you with him at the ballgame."

Sharon blinks back in confusion. "The ballgame? What are you—"

"You can pretend and lie all you want, but I know the truth," Flynn hisses out, the tension between them palpable. Sharon still isn't sure what he's accusing her of doing, but her self-control is wearing thin. Unlike most people pissed off to the point of contemplating murder, as Raydor and Flynn continue their verbal sparring that is inching ever so closer to physical assault, their voices get lower as their personal space decreases. They are mere inches away from each other, and to the average eye, look more like they are in a heavy make out session instead of about to commit homicide.

The sudden rapt on the passenger side window sends them scurrying to neutral corners, faces flushed when Flynn rolls down the window to reveal a smirking patrol cop. "Need to see some ID," he quips before really taking in the situation. The officer's smile falters when he catches sight of Flynn and Raydor's badges. "Oh Captain, um Lieutenant, didn't mean to intrude." He straightens, gesturing toward a nearby sign in explanation, "it's just that the park closes at dusk."

"Thanks Officer Michaels," Sharon says, catching the officer's name from his nametag as she quickly regains her composure. "We'll be on our way."

"No rush, ma'am, sir," he says unable to hide a quick grin as he recovers from his surprise enough to give them a once over. "Have a nice evening."

"Well we can't stay here anymore," Sharon groans as he walks away. "God knows how fast this bit of gossip will spread."

Flynn somehow manages a laugh. "Two jurisdictions over. He won't have a clue."

"But still," Sharon says, her concern replacing her anger for the moment.

"Yeah, I know," Flynn sighs, starting the car. "Hotel?"

Sharon slowly turns to face him, her silent stare instantly readying him for round two. "Hello, that's what got us into this situation."

"Fine. My place then, or your place."

"Hell no."

"All right. Provenza's?" Flynn cracks. Raydor visibly shudders.

"Fine, a hotel."

Flynn starts out of the lot, pointing the car toward downtown. "Ok, I know a guy."

"You know a guy," Sharon asks with a sarcastic lilt.

"Yeah, he has a place on the strip."

"Excuse me? Do I look like I get paid by the hour to you?"

Flynn gives her a once over in part just to see the fury flash behind her green eyes. "We could set you up with a nice outfit."

"Lieutenant if you even think—" she stops at the sound of his laughter. "You asshole."

"Favorite word huh? Look, I don't bring home a Captain's salary. So it's either my guy or…"

"Take a left on Fairmont," Raydor replies, settling back into her seat, "I know a guy, too, at the Baybridge." Flynn reluctantly gives her the point and does as he's told.

Flynn drums his fingers on the wheel as Raydor sits quietly, watching the streetlights go by. He cracks a smile when some oddball rap song starts playing. Sharon grabs for her purse, scooping out one of the latest smartphones.

"Danny, sorry, I meant to call." At the mention of her son's name, Flynn's posture goes rigid. He can't hear the other side of the conversation, but nonetheless strains to catch anything he can.

"No, I'm not sure how long I'll be," she glances over at him and Flynn tries his best to mask his interest in her conversation with their son. Well, he could be their son. He flicks his eyes away from the road to see Sharon staring at him, so he shrugs his shoulders. She shakes her head and drops her gaze from him. "Just order something from Tony's. Tell them to put it on my tab." She's quiet for a bit, listening to whatever Danny is saying. He must be home alone, Flynn concludes. Provenza did say that the girls were somewhat older than him.

"Okay, just do that then. I'll be home as soon as I can. Did you get your hair cut?" Flynn can't help but look at her when she asks that, the mirth in her voice pulling his attention back to her. Sharon Raydor really was an attractive woman, especially when she was happy. "What do you mean sort of? Daniel Raydor when I said…all right fine then, but if it's not short enough…yes I will get the ruler out." She giggles then, the sound effecting Flynn in ways he'd rather not have it affect him. He shifts in his seat; thankful to see the hotel come into view.

"I've got to go, Danny. Love you. Bye." Sharon hangs up and returns the phone to her purse. She's smiling until she catches sight of Andy Flynn's scowl. "What?"

"Your son?"

"Yes, I forgot to tell him—"

"Seems you forget to tell a lot of important things," he says, cutting her off. He jerks the car into the Baybridge parking lot, driving past the drop off area by the door to park in a space. Sharon releases her grip on the door rest a moment after he cuts the engine, not sure what caused his sudden zero to furious reaction.

"Okay, so give me a minute and I'll let you know the room number," Sharon says, deciding the quicker they get this over with the better. She grabs up her purse and goes to exit the car, waiting for Flynn's response.

"Fine," he says, not looking at her. She stares at him for a beat before getting out and going inside. She manages to find Andre, an old family friend who just happens to manage the Baybridge. In a few minutes he sets her up with a room, not even bothering to run a tab.

"I still owe you," he grins as he hands her the plastic keycard. "Jackson loved the tour of the department last summer, gave him the push he needed to decide the police academy was for him."

"Thank you, Andre, but really…"

"No, Ms. Sharon, I won't hear anymore of it. Just return the key when you're done." He waves her on her way, so she gives him a smile and heads off. When she finds the room, Sharon tosses her purse on the king size bed and heads into the bathroom. Staring at herself in the mirror, she reflects on the events of the day. She can't believe what's happened, or what may happen. Her phone rings again, this time a more professional ringtone cutting through the silence.

"Raydor."

"You got a room yet?" An irritated Flynn asks.

"314, to the right off the elevator, 5th room on the right."

"On my way," he says hanging up. Sharon stares at her phone, not knowing why, but suddenly feeling like being in a room alone with Andy Flynn might possibly be the worse decision she's made this night.

"I know you've had issues in the past," she calmly begins a few minutes after Andy Flynn brushes past her and walks to the middle of the room, "but if you've been, well if something is influencing your behavior." Sharon swallows hard at the cold hard glare Flynn turns on her. She hesitates, but turns her back on him to close the door. He waits until she's facing him before he speaks. Sharon takes in his stance. Standing with his hand at his hip, his jacket pushed aside, she can see that he left his gun in the car. _Small favors_, Sharon thinks to herself, figuring if he does try to kill her it will at least have to be with his bare hands.

"My only issue is that you have been keeping my son away from me for almost 16 years now," he replies in a thin, furious voice. He covers the distance between them as he speaks, unable to stay away from her when the urge to – Flynn stops a foot away, his nostrils flaring and his hands fisted. For her credit, Raydor doesn't flinch, well, at least she doesn't move from her spot a few feet from the door. Her eyes do go wide and she shakes her head in defiance.

"There's no way, no, it's not possible," she says convinced Flynn has gone round the bend. Turning, she reaches for the door. Flynn holds it closed, his hand resting just above her head as she puts her back to the door and faces him again. "Let me out, Lieutenant."

"You and I have a lot of things to discuss," he says, his body very much encroaching on her personal space, "and we do, you aren't going anywhere."

"You don't want to do this," Sharon whispers, letting her composure slip just enough to reveal her growing concern. She looks past him, seeing her purse, which has her gun, too far out of reach. _Why did I toss it on the bed_, she chastises herself. Flynn grabs her chin, forcing her to look at him.

"Stop thinking about it," he says, reading her far too well for someone she barely knows. But then again, he is a cop, too. "I'm not doing anything to you, Sharon, other than asking you to explain yourself before I start asking other people these same questions. Now, why don't we have this conversation." He takes a step back, dropping his hands to his side and taking on a relaxed posed. She notes that he is still between her and her purse, and this makes Sharon frown. "Or we could just go to your place and make sure Daniel has a good meal." He gets the reaction he wanted, feeling Sharon's jaw set as her eyes go from fear-filled to steely resolve.

"Fine," Raydor huffs.

He gestures toward the sitting area, blocking her when she reaches for her bag. "No, ma'am, that stays there."

"Afraid I might hurt you?"

"Oh you've already got a head start on that one," he remarks as she nears the small sofa. Sharon doesn't sit, squaring her shoulders instead and staring at Flynn with the fury of a thousand wronged women.

"I'm getting very tired of all these accusations, Lieutenant."

"In here, I'm Andy and you're Sharon. This between us has nothing to do with who we are out there," he says, flicking his hand toward the window.

"Very well, then I'm getting very tired of all these accusations, Andy." He smirks at her, which only infuriates her more, and settles on the side of the chair opposite her. Hands at his knee, Flynn just looks at her for a long moment. Sharon lets the silence overtake them, determined that since this is his show, he will be the one to continue. Flynn holds out until he realizes she isn't going to give. Her stubbornness impresses him more than it should, but he always was a strange sort.

"Mid-December 1994, I saw you at the bar at the Hilton."

"Yes, Lieu-," Sharon catches herself, "yes, Flynn, I think we've established that part."

"So you do remember?"

"Sleeping with you, yes," she tightly replies.

"Oh, no it was more than that," he says with a smug grin.

"Fine," Raydor says as she crosses her arms and glares at him, "I remember having sex with you. And if you dare think about spreading such a thing all over the department…"

"Don't flatter yourself," Flynn quips, "besides, that's not my style."

"Thank God for that," she tosses back, her reply full of sarcasm. Flynn leans closer to her then, his gaze staring through her as if she is a suspect in some crime.

"You're a smart woman, Sharon, so it shouldn't be so hard for you to connect the dots here. When was Daniel born? I'm guessing probably late August, early September 1995." Flynn doesn't fill a surge of pleasure like he thought he would when the realization of what he is getting at starts to dawn on Sharon. He does feel frustrated that she's being so dimwitted about this, especially since for him it's all completely obvious.

"I don't believe it. My son is not yours."

"Now, granted I was pretty wasted pretty much all the time back then," Flynn continues, ignoring her denial, "but I am pretty certain I didn't use any protection." Raydor, however isn't paying attention to him. She stumbles the foot or so to the sofa and collapses on it. Flynn stops talking, his own revelation that Raydor may not be lying to him sinking in. "Wait, you didn't ever think this?"

"I told you, it was a rough time for me," her voice is weak, almost a whisper. Flynn chastises himself for the hope that she doesn't start to cry. But Sharon Raydor is tougher than that, and she bites back any tears that threaten to spill. "My husband, we were separated and it was bad." She swallows, choosing her next words carefully, debating how much she wants to reveal to him.

"I know you come from money, Sharon. It's not a well-kept secret."

She frowns, then shrugs, "Well then you can likely understand why it was messy. Rick wasn't from money. Anyway, there was a time at Christmas, we…"

"So you got back together?"

"Yes, briefly. When I found out I was pregnant, I just assumed."

"Or you convinced yourself," Flynn interjects. Standing, he locates the mini bar and goes to it. "You want a drink?"

"I thought you didn't?"

"I don't, but it doesn't mean you can't." He opens the small refrigerator and smiles as he spots the ginger ales. "I'll have one of these," he says holding one up. "There's whiskey, rum, isn't that what you liked?"

"Water, if you don't mind. I'm not sure I want to drink anything around you anytime soon." To Sharon's surprise, Flynn's smile increases at the quip. "That amuses you?"

"Well, if drinking is what gets your guard down."

"I don't understand you," she sighs, continuing at the sight of his questioning look. "One minute you're so infuriated that I fear you'll choke me, and in the next you're cracking jokes."

Flynn shrugs, walking over to hand her a small bottle of water while he opens the ginger ale. "You just have that effect on me, I guess. Now," he says, sitting back down in the chair, "can you at least admit to the possibility that Daniel could be mine?" Sharon sips her water, quiet and contemplative. Flynn lets the silence fall between them, just happy that she is no longer eyeing her purse and she no longer appears to be on the verge of crying. He doesn't realize she's staring at him for long enough to ask himself how long she's been staring at him. "What?"

"Where were you?"

"Huh?"

"You didn't do the math all those years ago? It took you this long to learn how to add?" She says it with a straight face, but it's the condescending tone that gets him. Flynn's spine goes rigid, his jaw sets, and he decides that she's better at interrogating people than he first thought. "Well?"

He takes a sip of his soda and gives her a sheepish shrug. "You got me." Raydor raises an eyebrow. "Provenza and I were at the game Saturday."

"The Dodger's game? That's what you meant by seeing me at the ballpark."

"Seeing you and Danny."

"And what? Suddenly everything became crystal clear?"

Flynn leans his elbows on his knees, dropping his head. "Actually no. Provenza noticed that Danny looked a lot like my son, Jesse. He's a little older than Danny, but the similarity was too much for Louie to let go. And, well, when I saw him…" Flynn trails off, taking a breath before adding, "If he's mine, I want to do right by him." Sharon's chuckle brings his head up, "That's funny to you?"

She shakes her head, "If you're serious about that, well, even with your troubled past you'd be better than Rick."

"Troubled past?"

"You didn't remember sleeping with me because you blacked out afterward, didn't you?" She holds his gaze until he feels his face flushing and forces himself to look away. "Did you even remember having sex?"

"Yes, I remembered," He snips, "I just didn't remember with who." He looks up, seeing Raydor's frown. "I remembered your perfume, which you still wear right?" She nods. "That's probably why I never liked that perfume." At her scowl he continues, "Well, you just left and there I was with no idea what had happened and with one helluva hangover."

"If I recall, that wasn't out of the norm for you then, was it?" It's his turn to scowl. "Fourteen years sober?"

"Yes."

"How many more blackouts did you have after that night?"

"Not that many," Flynn's expression is on the edge of rage. "I won't let you use my past against me, Sharon. If he's mine, don't think I won't fight you to see him. I won't let you do me the same way—"

"If Daniel is yours," she cuts in, "and that's a very doubtful if, we will figure out how and if –"

"When."

"If," she pauses, "when it's conclusive that you are."

Andy gives her a questioning stare. "Do you think I'm going to just take the similarity of your son and mine as proof that Daniel is yours?" Flynn opens his mouth to say something, but stops himself then slowly shakes his head. "Exactly. You of all people should know that more than just a hunch is required here. It's one thing for you to turn my life upside down over a gut feeling, but I'll be damned if you do that to my son." She huffs out the statement, but tries to soften the blow at the sight of the fire in Flynn's eyes. "I know you aren't doing this lightly, Andy." She smiles then, a sad sort of smile that draws him closer to her, has him leaning toward her. "How would you feel if some guy showed up when you were almost 16 and said what you believed your entire life was a lie?"

Andy sighs, "Yeah, I see your point. But if you think I'm going to just let him be out there and never—"

Raydor holds up her hand to stop him, "I'm not saying that, Andy. I just want a DNA test. Can't you admit that that is a fair request?"

He purses his lips, and then huffs out a long sigh. "Yes, fine. But I want one now, not later this week or next or."

"No, that's fair. This isn't going away, so we might as well get it over with." Sharon removes her glasses and rubs at the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes as she does. "I'll figure out something to tell him just in case."

"And when the test comes back?"

"Then I'll figure out what to tell him."

"You won't keep him—" Flynn's words get stuck in his throat at the sight of Raydor's glare, which he can only adequately describe as one of a mother lion on the verge of attack.

"If Daniel is yours and you dump him in a few months after the newness has worn off, I swear to you, Andy Flynn that you will regret ever remembering our one night together. He's had too much disappointment in his life from his father so far, and I will not have another one come along just to hurt him more. Do you understand me?"

In that moment, Flynn realizes that Sharon Raydor is indeed a wicked witch; however, he can't find one reason to fault her for being so.


	3. Chapter 3

A week and a half later, Andy Flynn walks in to a very tense squad room. The guys are in a huddle around Tao's desk, heads down with occasional glances toward the Chief's office. Flynn looks that way and notices her blinds are drawn.

"What's going on?"

"Pope and Raydor went in there with Chief Delk about a half hour ago," Gabriel says.

"Then a few suits went in about ten minutes ago," Tao adds.

"Lawyers?" The guys nod yes. "Shit," Flynn mutters.

"I bet Raydor's been poking her nose around where she shouldn't," Provenza chimes in, "She always did have a way of being a pain in the ass." Flynn frowns, his eyes still trained on the Chief's office. "You remember that time Franklin wolf whistled her?" Louie looks at his partner, but when Flynn doesn't react he continues, "She slapped him with harassment—"

"Why would Delk be in there? Anyone heard anything?" The others shrug or shake their heads at Flynn's question.

"I tell ya, Flynn, that," Provenza wags his finger, "witch…" Flynn's frown deepens, which normally spurs Provenza on, but the older detective catches a hint of disapproval in his partner's eye. "What?"

"Door's moving," Tao comments and the guys try to look busy.

"Everyone, I um, I need you all to come to the conference room," Deputy Chief Johnson says, her hands fidgeting through the air like a startled bird. She is clearly agitated, her gaze flipping between Pope and Raydor.

"I'll be on my way," Delk nods at Raydor and Pope before motioning for the suits to follow him. "Remember what I said, Deputy Chief." He gives Johnson a hard stare before turning on his heels, entourage in tow. The guys exchange glances, but Flynn barely notices having been staring at Sharon Raydor since the second she stepped out of the Chief's office. She's all business in her pinstriped suit, a hint of purple showing beneath the jacket. Her hair is down, freshly washed and her eyes are steel behind her glasses. His ire at her is hard to push back, given she'd found out the DNA results a couple of days ago but had yet to grace him with a call. No, so far he wasn't worthy of much more than a quickly scribbled note on a post-it. It's no wonder to him that she hasn't looked his way once.

"Ok, so, conference room, now everyone," Johnson snaps her fingers, getting the guys to move. She leads the way while Raydor and Pope hang back. Flynn drags his feet, letting the others go ahead of him. For a moment he thinks Pope isn't going to move until at the last second the guy falls in step with Gabriel. Provenza notices Flynn lagging behind, but Sanchez happens to be behind him and ushers the older detective along. Raydor turns to join the others, but Flynn catches her elbow.

"Not now," she whispers in a stern tone.

"What's going on?"

"You're about to find out," she frowns, taking a step forward.

"Wait a minute," Flynn pulls back on her arm and is met with her scowl. "We need to talk, and I mean more than just a note saying the tests confirmed it and I'll call you soon." He dips his head down until she has to look at him. Sharon's work façade fades for just a moment when her eyes meet his.

"Be glad you weren't in that car," she says through tight lips. Flynn jerks his head back, a confused look falling across his face. After a quick glance down the hall, Sharon takes a step back from him before saying in a measured tone, "We do have to talk about a lot of things."

"Detective? Captain?" Pope's voice causes them to stand ramrod straight.

"Sorry, coming, sir," Raydor replies as she turns away from Flynn.

He falls in step just behind her, leaning close to whisper, "You won't put me off." Before Sharon can reply, Flynn steps past her, nods to Pope and heads inside the conference room. Pope raises his brow at the Captain but Sharon says nothing, just moves inside so he can close the door behind them. When Chief Johnson starts talking, Flynn's confusion clears.

"I told you she was in the middle of this," Provenza mouths off much later when Pope is long gone, the Chief is back in her office and Raydor is nowhere near them for the moment. "Small doses of her are bad enough, but this? How the hell are we supposed to do our jobs with her breathing down our backs every second?"

"I knew we shouldn't have left him there," Gabriel slams his hand on his desk then leans his chin against his clasped hands. "This is all kinds of bad."  
>"It's done," Sanchez replies as Provenza and Tao exchange looks, while Flynn continues to lean against his desk, strangely quiet.<p>

"Flynn, you know this is pointless? That kid made his own bed when he killed that old man and kid in the convenience store," Provenza continues. "I mean I understand exactly why the Chief dropped him off and let his gang deal with him. Raydor and her rule book. You know she's going to be the last one to lift a finger to help them out of this—"

"I need some air," Andy says, pushing off the desk and heading out of the squad room without even a glance behind him. Provenza stares slack jawed as he leaves, holding up his hands in a 'what gives' question. Tao and Sanchez just shrug.

Smoking had never been a habit for Sharon. She'd flirted with the addiction, but it didn't last. Now and again she bummed a cig from a fellow cop, but only when the smells got to her or the nerves. Standing on the roof, leaning against the stairwell exterior, she inhales the pilfered smoke and closes her eyes. She counts to ten, then on to fifteen, but has to exhale at seventeen. Her lungs burning and the urge to cough strong, but she holds back and lets the sensation fade.

"Want another?" Flynn startles her, but she manages to not jump. Instead she shakes her head and flicks the dying ashes away before taking another drag. He lights up in the silence and stands beside her, leaning his back against the wall. Wearing another white pressed shirt, straight tie and neatly creased pants, she observes.

"To be such a screw-up, I have to give it to you that you are a well dressed one," her words mix with her exhaled smoke. "What the hell were you all thinking?"

"May I point out that I have plausible denial ability in this?"

"Ha!" Sharon scoffs. "That lot of you, what one does might as well be credited to all of you. You did know about it." She says it as a statement and not knowing if this in an official questioning or not, Flynn simply dips his head, skimming his foot against the tiny rocks in the tar. "Off the record," he shrugs, "it seemed right at the time."

"I don't know how she's going to get out of this," Sharon says with a sideways glance to him. "The family has a case and they're out for more than just money in this. They're out for blood."

"Give it time," he replies, inhaling the rich tobacco. "These things have a way of sorting themselves out."

Sharon straightens, moving to stand in front of Flynn. She drops her cigarette to the ground, grinding out the butt with the ball of her 3-inch black heel. "Maybe so, Flynn, but don't think this will go away so easy for any of you. The three of them left that boy to die."

"That boy," he says, pulling up to his full height and leaning toward her so he's towering slightly over her, "killed two innocent people just because they saw his face."

"And that makes what they did ok?"

"It doesn't keep me up at night."

Raydor's mouth purses in that irritating, condescending way of hers, filling him with a raging need to reach out. Before he realizes what he's doing, Flynn's hand locks on her chin and he's so very close to her. Sharon grabs his arm, a gasp slipping out as Flynn stares down at her. "Lieutenant."

"No, Sharon, you listen, I—" Flynn isn't sure what he wants to say, distracted by the way her widening green eyes change colors in the light as a cloud passes between them and the sun. For two days she'd kept him waiting, two days with the promise to call and nothing. If she thought she could string him along…Sharon lets out a long held breath, the movement of her lips drawing Flynn's attention to her mouth. He can see the tension there, feel it like another presence surrounding them.

"Flynn," she whispers and something in him breaks. In one swift movement, Flynn descends, tossing his cigarette aside so his free hand can wrap around her waist. He pulls her hard against him, forcing Sharon to grab his waist or risk a head rush as her balance is completely thrown off. Any protest she tries to make is muted by Flynn's mouth closing over hers, his kiss demanding but not hard; rushed but not forceful. Sharon wraps her fingers in his shirtsleeve, digging into his skin. At first she makes muffled, annoyed sounds. Flynn, however, capitalizes on her parted lips, slipping his tongue in between as he slides the hand at her jaw around to cup the back of her neck. He moves his other hand higher up her back, drawing her closer to him until she is pressed firmly against his chest.

She gasps again at the solid feel of him, suddenly lost in the intensity of him. The rich tobacco taste on his tongue invades her mouth, and although part of Sharon wants him to stop, another part, which is getting harder and harder to ignore, revels in the feel of him. In a moment of weakness she kisses back, opening to him as she lessens her grip on his shirtsleeve. She indulges in the sensations coursing through her, in the long suppressed memories of that shared night that began to rise to the surface of her mind just over a week ago. Breathless, Flynn pulls back, and the second his lips part from hers the spell is broken. Raydor blinks, drawing back her hand to strike. Flynn reacts, reflexively grabbing her wrist.

"You-"

"Asshole," he quips, breaking her seething stride. "I know, but sometimes that's how life is." Sharon draws in a deep breath, her jade eyes hard, full of fire. Flynn simply smiles. "Tell me you wouldn't have done the same, if you knew a murderer was going to just walk out free and clear?" She glares at him, her fist tightening so he tightens his hold on her wrist. "If it had been your family he'd killed?"

"That's not fair to ask."

"It's what I ask myself everyday."

"I should tear up those results and take Danny far away from you."

"But you won't." Flynn loosens his hold on her wrist but doesn't let her go. "I remember why I wanted to hate you so much now," he says, leaning back against the wall. As he relaxes, some of the tension leaves her as well, but not much. She's still prowling, on guard and ready to strike if given the chance. He waits for her to ask him why, but instead has to make do with an inclination of her head. "You make me crazy," he admits.

"I can say the same about you."

Flynn smirks, but quickly turns serious. "I can be a good father; all I need's a chance."

"He's had so much disappointment in his life."

"I won't disappoint him."

"Won't you?"

Flynn starts up but catches himself and forces his body back against the wall. "See that's what I mean. You and that damn rule book of yours. You just expect people to fail."

"No, I expect you to be human and do the exact opposite of what you're supposed to do, and then leave me to clean up your mess." The flames in her eyes make Flynn understand that she's not just talking about their son. Son. Shit, he has a son. With Raydor. She sees the softness come into his eyes and he registers her confusion.

"Danny is mine. We have a son," as he says it out loud, the impact of hearing the words are so much more intense than just thinking them, the effect making him feel as lightheaded as kissing her had done. The effect is visible on Sharon as well, the tension draining from her so fast that for a moment Flynn thinks she might faint.

"Apparently we do," she whispers. "We can't let them know, not yet. Please Andy." He quirks his head in response making Sharon frown. She pulls back from his hold, and he lets her go. Sharon crosses her arms along her chest, saying, "I've been assigned to your unit until the duration of this court case, remember? I don't know what we're going to do about this, but I don't want to do it with an audience."

"Fair enough."

"You may not like following the rules, but you best follow mine," she rushes out before he can figure out the change in her tone. "We're going to be walking a very thin line here, Flynn. I have to be impartial during the extent of this, do you understand me?"

"Can you be?" he blurts out, immediately sorry for doing so because her glower tells him that she can and will shut him out if he pushes her too far. "Fine," he says, holding up his hands in a peace offering. "In there," he gestures toward the stairwell door, "we're Lieutenant and Captain, but we have to be able to work out a time for me to get to know my son."

Sharon closes her eyes, resigned to the fact that short of killing him or letting that gangster's parents fry him, which she'd likely, probably, never do, Andy Flynn was going to be in the middle of her life for the rest of Danny's. She sighs again, nipping at her bottom lip before deciding on what she needs to say. "I wasn't, I didn't mean to leave you hanging. I meant to call you the same day I sent the note, but all this came up," she explains, her hands punctuating her words. "Please just give me the rest of today. You have my word we'll talk about this—"

"There's a game tomorrow night."

"Excuse me?"

"Dodgers are playing the Giants. Meet me at the stadium with Danny." She takes a minute to react, Flynn realizes just how long when he feels his body demanding that he take a breath. Finally she nods.

"Fine, okay, but…"

"I won't say anything until you're ready," he grumbles, then slowly holds out his hand to seal the oath. Sharon flicks her gaze from his hand to his sincere brown eyes before closing her hand around his.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Alright then, we'll see you at the game." Sharon starts to let go, but then tightens her hold. As she does so, her small smile turns deadly and she leans in close to Flynn, her breathy whisper at his ear. "And if you even think about kissing me again, I'll show you just how wicked a witch I can be." Flynn doesn't crack a smile until the click of her heels and the reverberations of the slamming metal door fade from his ears.


	4. Chapter 4

The tennis ball hits midway up the 9-foot wall, comes hurtling down at speed, and at the last second is scooped up by Danny. Laying on his back on the floor in the family room, Danny tosses the ball up, tapping his converse sneakers against the floor while reaching out to catch the ball again. He nods his head in time with the song playing on his iPod, dressed and ready half an hour ago.

"Twenty minutes!" he yells out, briefly looking at the direction of his mother's room.

"What?" she yells back.

"If we don't leave in twenty minutes we'll hit traffic."

"I'm coming okay," and he can tell she's still in her closet.

"Jeans and the shirt I got you last season, Mom. It's a ballgame not prom! Women take forever to do nothing." He trails off so he is only muttering the last part, but Sharon hears him anyway. She stands in the hallway, hands on her hips and stares down at him.

"What are you ten?"

"Plus some," he cheekily grins.

"Get up, let's go."

"Really? You sure?" Danny stays on the floor, giving her a once over. "That your final outfit?" He gives her an appraising look, amazed that she did in fact pick jeans and, while she's not wearing the 'Dodgers Do It Better' shirt he'd gotten her, the blue v-neck is passable, but she's wearing some fancy dress boots instead of sneakers. "Overall you'll do," he grins. And waits. "Mom?" When Danny looks back at her face, Sharon's expression confuses him.

She's looking at him, but it doesn't look like she's seeing him. Danny jumps up, shutting off his iPod as he moves to his mom. "Hey, you ok?" He touches her arm, relieved when she blinks.

"What?"'

"Um, you spaced out. I've seen Lily do that but I just thought she was weird."

"Huh"

"Well, it's still weird but now I know it's genetic," he cracks a smile and she almost goes back into that distant look again. Sharon catches herself though, shaking her head slightly. For a moment there, well, he'd reminded her of Flynn.

"Mom, you've been acting, well off for a week now. Is everything ok? You're not having to deal with those Major Crimes pricks again, are you?"

"Daniel," her eyes go wide and Danny tries not to grin at her sudden snap back into being his mom.

"Wow, that's it? All I got to do is toss out a British curse and you're back? Ok, mental note taken." Sharon scowls, now mentally keeping her own notes of how much she does that with Danny. Was he like Flynn or was she looking for ways for him to be like, like his father? "So really, are you ready? Can we go?"

"What?" she asks, noticing Daniel moving toward the door.

"Now, go, yes?"

"Yes, we can go."'

"Keys?"

Sharon inhales, thinking why not let him drive. "Fine, but we're taking the Jeep," she holds up her hand to silence any protest. "Jeep or nothing." Daniel frowns, but snatches up the keys and heads to the garage, tossing her a glance as he goes so she sees that sneaky grin of his back in place. Sharon's stomach clenches at the thought of Flynn's traits being genetic. "Lord help me," she whispers as she follows him out.

Being fidgety isn't Andy Flynn's style, and it's a sensation he doesn't like at all. Toothpick in place, he makes himself lean against the wall outside the entrance to the ballpark so he doesn't walk a trail in the sidewalk. Instead, he just chews through half a box of toothpicks. Catching sight of Raydor and her son, his son, he kicks at the small pile at his feet to scatter the evidence of his nervous habit.

"Hey," he nods as they move within earshot, momentarily distracted from looking at Daniel by the sight of Raydor dressed down. She looks more human he thinks, which causes him to frown.

"Everything ok?"

"Oh, yea," he covers with a smile. "Hey, I'm Flynn," he addresses Danny.

"Daniel, this is Lt. Andy Flynn."

"Hey," Danny gives Flynn a steady once over. "You work with my mom?"

"Yea."

"Cool. So who's your favorite player?"

"Well, I'm partial to Gibbons," Flynn says as they head into the stadium.

Danny quirks his brow, "Gibbons? He's been playing for ages."

"Did you see that catch he made at the wall?"

"True that was very nice, but…"

Sharon falls back a step, observing the two and allowing herself a moment to hope for the best.

Well into the 5th inning, the male bonding between Andy and Danny has Sharon feeling a little left out. She sits back and watches as the two lay out their cases for how the current batter will do based on a series of codes and number combinations that she can't even begin to understand.

"Are all men wired to know this stuff?"

"What stuff?" Flynn asks, glancing from the action on the field to her.

"RIB, IBB, AB, RIG…"

"Mom, there's no RIG," Daniel cuts in, not even glancing away from the game. At some point, he'd adopted the same pose as Flynn, elbows on knees, chin resting on the back of his hands, eyes intently on the game. With Danny in the middle of them, Sharon wonders if anyone thinks they are a family. "And it's RBI, runs batted in, I've explained this to you before."

"Must be a guy thing," she smirks. "I'm going to get a soda. Anybody want anything? Peanuts, crackerjacks?" Danny grins and rolls his eyes as he shakes his head at her silliness.

"Want me to go with?"

"No, you guys watch the game."

"Well, here then," Flynn takes his eyes off the game long enough to reach into his back pocket for his wallet. He pulls out a couple of bills, handing them to her, "Popcorn and a coke if you don't mind."

"Not at all," and he thinks she really means it.

After his mom is gone, Andy catches some sideways glances from the kid and braces himself. "So," Danny says, leaning back in his seat, "you work with my mom?"

"Uh, yea, I do," Andy nods.

"Some days I don't know how you guys do it. You know, Mom doesn't say much, but I can tell when something big has happened." Flynn looks at him, noticing that Danny is watching the game but isn't paying as close attention as before.

"It's just you and her now?"

"Lily's working on her master's at Stanford and Kate is in New York with her internship. So, yeah just Mom and me," he says, biting at his lip like his mother sometimes does. "Do you know what's going on with her? She's been distracted for a few days now."

"Distracted?"

"Edgy sorta." Danny sighs, bracing his feet against the top of the seat in front of him as he slumps further down in his chair. "I really hope she's not, but I just bet she's working with those stupid asses from Major Crimes again," he mutters.

Flynn maintains his self control as his years of conditioning himself not to react in order to get more out a person come in handy. He manages another nonchalant glance Danny's way and waits for him to continue. "I don't get what their deal is, but it's like they hate her. All she's trying to do it keep them out of trouble, but they fight her worse than the other people, you know the families."

"I thought she doesn't tell you much?"

"I grew up in a house with three girls. I know how to find out things. Besides, this is my mom. If she's upset I'm going to find out why." Daniel grins a slow, sneaky smile. "Besides, I saw a story in the paper the other day, something about a family suing the department for not protecting their son. Apparently he was dropped off in the middle of a gang stronghold. Two plus two always adds up to four."

"Fair enough." Flynn sits back, keeping his mouth shut as much as he can.

"I mean, you get it right? Sometimes you just screw up, but I don't get why they think she's out to get them. I know she can be annoying with her follow the rules, but," Danny glances around as if to make sure his mom is nowhere near, "well, I'll never admit to her but she has a point. And she's fair. Some days, some days," his young face turns hard, "I just want to hit them you know. I wish they saw how much it hurts her to fight both sides like that."

For a second, Flynn wonders if Raydor set him up, but one look at the kid tells him this is all Danny. He shuffles his feet, suddenly more interested in the ground beneath him than the game. Slight against his unit aside, he can't help but think that the kid is alright if he cares this much about his mother.

"I mean, you feel that too, right? Working in FID?"

"Uh," Flynn raises his head a little to catch Danny's gaze, "I don't work in FID." Danny frowns. "I work in," and for the first time in well, possibly his career, Flynn is hesitant to say. "I'm in Major Crimes." Danny blanches.

"Hey, little help," Sharon calls from the end of the aisle. Danny jumps up, grabbing the tray holding three sodas from his mother then stepping back so she can move down the row. She hands Flynn his popcorn, soon noticing that something isn't right.

"Here, Mom," Danny holds out Flynn's drink for her to take while he settles in her seat. She takes it, gives him a look then turns to Flynn, mouthing, "What?" He shrugs, takes the drink and slides back in his seat. Sharon glances at them, both with eyes on the game and straws at the ready. "You okay?" She asks Danny, holding out a pack of peanuts for him. He takes them with a nod. "Okay then, so who's batting?" One mumbles, the other shrugs and Sharon decides looking through the roster is her only option if she really wants to know.

Captain Sharon Raydor is no longer bothered by the silent treatment she gets from the detectives in Major Crimes. The silent treatment from her son, however, is a different story. Kate and Lily treated her to many hours of moody looks and incoherent mumbles, the hormones of their teenage years driving them all to the brink of insanity at times. But Daniel wasn't like that, or at least she thought he wasn't until he didn't even say goodbye to her when she dropped him off at school. In fact, after giving it a little thought, Sharon realizes Daniel is closing in on the record set by Major Crimes in that if he doesn't talk to her today, he will have given her a full 24-hour silent treatment.

The detectives' conversation stops in mid-sentence when she walks past them. They glance around as she settles at her desk, finally moving off to pretend they are working. But Sharon knows they'll reconvene in the break room or the tech room or some other place where she isn't until she shows up there. If she were much younger, and they all really were still in elementary school these hide and seek games might be fun. Sharon looks up, catching Louie Provenza's eyes. She smiles sweetly and he glares back. Nope, she thinks, not even if she were in elementary school.

Her phone buzzes at her from somewhere in her purse. Raydor reaches for it, thinking perhaps Daniel might have remembered his manners. Her shock at the name attached to the text is so profound that Detective Gabriel asks if she's okay as he passes by her desk.

"I'm fine, thanks," she nods, quickly covering her phone which is of course the dumbest thing to do in a room full of men trained to notice any sign of subterfuge.

"Okay then," he says unconvinced.

Raydor looks back at her phone to read the message again. "Had a good time last night with you and Danny. He's a really good kid." Searching the room, Raydor spies him near Johnson's office. Andy Flynn. She feels the smile breaking across her face, but hearing Provenza clear his throat she flicks her eyes back to the stack of files on her desk, silently cursing her momentary slip.

Raydor comes around a corner, stopping short at the sight of half of the Major Crimes detectives in the middle of the hallway.

"Gentleman," she says. Flynn's eyes dart from hers to the floor, then to his coffee cup and back to the spot above Provenza's shoulder. Tao, to her amazement, appears to blush and Provenza just snorts and humfps, moving his shoulder the bare minimum required to let her pass.

"You know it's true, Flynn," she hears the older detective growl. "Through and through bitch. Right?"

"Yeah, through and through," Andy mumbles and Sharon feels her blood pressure rise.

She distracts herself by checking her phone again, hoping her earlier message to Daniel had been returned. And it had. With one word. "Whatever." Raydor checks her watch, a little past noon. Good time for lunch. She grabs her purse and heads toward the door, firing off a message as she goes.

To: Flynn

We need to talk now. You know where.

Raydor paces in the Baybridge hotel room, too keyed up to sit any longer as she waits for Andy Flynn. When he knocks, she jumps at the door, swinging it open so fast she chastises herself.

"Sorry, couldn't shake Provenza," he says stepping inside. "So what was so important?"

She closes the door, then turns to face him with a scowl. "What did you do to my son?"

"Excuse me? Isn't that what did I do to our son? And the answer is nothing."

"Try again. He hasn't spoken to me since the game," she replies, hands on her hips in a defiant stance. Flynn mirrors her, annoyed that he's being interrogated for the second time today. He shrugs.

"Two days? What, he's a teenager. Aren't they supposed to be moody and stay mad at their parents?"

"If he has a reason, but Daniel's not like that." Sharon sighs, removing her glasses to pinch the bridge of her nose. "I thought you two were getting along fine. What did you talk about when I left?'

Flynn dodges her eyes and, thinking the room has suddenly gone warm, removes his jacket. He tosses it on the bed and loosens his tie. He'd thought dealing with Provenza's questions this morning had been hard. "He mentioned how you've been edgy lately. Wanted to know if I knew about anything at work that was bothering you."

"Work? What did you say?"

"He did all the talking," Flynn goes to the mini fridge and grabs a bottle of water. "So you talk about work issues much at home?"

Sharon stares at him, lips pursed. "I will not have you question how I raise my son."

Flynn holds up his hands, "I wasn't saying that."

"You know, I really am getting tired of having to constantly defend myself from you and your, your pals." She spits out, her composure slipping as Flynn's cool manner begins to grate on her nerves. "If all of you want to hang then fine, but I'll be damned if I let you take down the entire force with you. It has been very hard and taken a lot of good men and women countless hours, years even to try to build back the damage done by a few bad cops. You and your friends can think of me what you will, but I won't let you destroy all we've done to restore the LAPD's reputation."

"Wait a minute, how did we go from Danny's bad mood to yours?" Flynn catches his stupidity, trying to make up for it. "I didn't mean—"

"No, don't," Sharon holds up her hand to stop him, "you absolutely did mean that. I heard you this morning, all of you in your little huddle. I can't help that you see Chief Johnson as, as this flawless never does anything wrong," eyes burning Sharon's words are flying faster than her thoughts, "you can act like I don't know what you all call me, and you can think it has no effect but—"

Cautiously, Flynn sits down his water and walks toward her as she rants. As he nears the look in his eyes halt her words as she isn't sure if she's ever seen concern for her coming from him.

"Danny said he hoped you weren't working with Major Crimes again, said we were a bunch of asses." Flynn chuckles as Sharon's eyes go wide. "Guess I know where he gets that from. I'm sorry for earlier, whatever you heard. The guys, well, you come in breathing down our necks and questioning our every move. It ruffles feathers, gets under the skin you know?" She frowns and it's his turn to sigh.

"Look, I was getting it from Provenza, him wanting to know if I was going soft, if something was up between us."

"He doesn't suspect? You haven't told him about Daniel?"

"Only you, me and the lab tech know anything about that," Flynn reassures her. Sharon relaxes a little, but still has a hard grip on her glasses and a slight frown. "So the crack this morning?"

"It was either squirm and make him even more suspicious or call you a bitch and have him let it go," Flynn shrugs. "Which would you have preferred me to do?" She lets out a long sigh, working at the tension in her neck with her free hand. "He started all this anyway, the old dog. He's worse than a bloodhound when he gets on to something."

"Do you think he'll let it go?"

"I don't know." Flynn leans against the wall, watching her wince as she kneads a certain spot. "You ok?"

"Muscle's tight," she replies, "why did all this have to happen now?"

"Dunno," he says, moving closer and gesturing toward the bed, "sit down on the corner."

"What?"

He sits near the end of the bed, pointing to the two feet of space between him and the edge. "Sit with your back to me." She eyes him wearily. "I won't bite." Sharon frowns and Flynn flashes an innocent smile. "Promise."

"Fine." Sharon kicks off her heels and starts to sit down.

"Take off your jacket."

She huffs but does so. "I have my gun handy."

"Figured," Flynn quips, rubbing his hands together to warm them before lightly brushing her hair to one side. "Here?" he asks, feeling the knot midway up her neck. Sharon tenses, giving him his answer. "So Danny is holding a grudge against me since I told him I work in Major Crimes?"

"I guess so," she mutters, trying to relax but feeling her muscles tighten at the feel of Flynn's fingers against her skin. "But I don't know why he's mad at me."

"Long shot here, but I'd say consorting with the enemy."

"You're not my enemy although…"

"We work very hard to make you feel that way?"

"Yea," she whispers, dipping her head as he kneads an especially sore spot.

"Feeling better?"

"Mmm yea," she nods and he smiles. He works the area around her shoulder blades, moving toward the center of her back. Flynn hits a ticklish spot, and Sharon squirms, leaning back. The move brings him closer to her so that he catches a good whiff of her perfume. He breathes it in, his senses remembering the smell.

"You still wear the same perfume?" his voice is soft, close to her ear. Sharon hums her reply, dropping her hands from her lap. One lands on Andy's leg, and instead of jerking it away, she ends up griping his knee when he moves to her lower back and finds a tense muscle there. "You really need to relax."

"Yea, heard that before," she says in a breathy gasp. He grins, glancing from her hand on his knee to the expression on her face. He feels his heart beat pick up, knows hers has too from the pulse point in her neck that is jumping faster than before. Flynn wets his lips, concentrates on breathing. But each inhale brings with it the scent of her sweet perfume and of something else.

Flynn touches her hand, a light tap on the back of it. Sharon turns, her lips so close. "Sharon, I—" He doesn't get a chance to finish his thought, and it doesn't matter. Her lips are soft against his, hesitant. Remembering her threat from before, Flynn keeps his hands to himself, letting her lead. She twists some, gets a better line to him as she deepens the kiss. He takes the invitation, resting his hands at her waist and pulling her closer to him.

She caresses his cheek, grazes her fingers along the back of his neck, and plays with his hair. He nips at her lips, savoring the taste of her. She opens her eyes, the green overwhelming as she stares into him. When she starts to talk, he covers her mouth, pulling her into a deep kiss.

The ringing phone blasts through the intimacy of the moment like a gunshot. Sharon breaks away and lunges for her purse. Phone in hand, she's all business by the time Flynn drops his feet to the floor.

"I've got to go," she says, hitting the end button on her phone and stepping into her shoes. "And I suspect you will be getting a call shortly as well."

"Fine," he murmurs, standing up and grabbing his jacket. She heads to the mirror, finger combing her hair back into place before heading for the door. She's halfway down the hall when he catches up to her. "Are we?"

"No, I don't think," she hits the elevator button and steps inside when it opens right after. She doesn't look at him, and Flynn starts to brood. Crossing his arms along his chest, he lets the car descend in silence. He waits for her while she turns in the key, noticing her failure to look at him as she heads past him and out the front doors.

"Hey, what about Danny?" he calls just outside. Sharon stops, takes a breath and turns back. Her face is softer when she meets his gaze. "You know whatever happens—" She nods, walking back to him, and surprises him when she reaches to straighten his tie.

"Somehow this all seems to have gotten very complicated," she says, a wisp of a smile on her lips. Flynn lays his hand on hers, looking into her sad eyes.

"I'm sorry for being an asshole," he says and for a moment she can only look back at him in shock. "You ok?"

"Um, thank you," she finally mutters when she regains her voice. Flynn moves his hand and she drops hers back to her side.

"Can I see you later? You and Danny? Maybe we can go eat or something."

"Yeah, okay, maybe."

"Good, just let me know."

Sharon nods, starting to back away towards her car. "I will." She watches him smile as he heads to his own car, gets in and drives away. She starts to move when he leaves the parking lot, but continues to keep an eye on Flynn. As he drives away, she notices a car across the street with two very familiar men inside. Sharon feels her blood begin to boil as she races to her car.

Gabriel mutters a curse and sinks lower in the passenger seat. Sanchez, however, adjusts his shades and pretends to check out the view behind him in the mirror. "She made us?" he asks.

"I would say that's a yes," Gabriel's face crinkles as if in pain. "Why did we listen to Provenza?"

"Because Flynn wasn't acting normal for Flynn. At least he isn't drinking."

"He's going to kill us. You know this right?"

"If she doesn't kill us first," Sanchez replies, his eyes fixed on Raydor's car as she pulls out of the hotel lot and drives away from them.

"Provenza is going to be all over this. Stupid, stupid…"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Sanchez gives Gabriel a long look, "I just saw Flynn coming out of a hotel. Alone."

Gabriel has a second of confusion, but catches up quick. "Alone, yeah, I can't disagree with you there."

"Think now's a good time to grab some lunch."

"Burger joint on McMarien?"

"Works for me."


	5. Chapter 5

Andy Flynn isn't himself anymore and that makes him crazy. The last time he was this much in his own head, well, there was a lot of alcohol involved. It certainly made him stop thinking, at least until he sobered up, which is why he was rarely sober. But alcohol isn't an option now, which annoys him and makes him cranky. He'd blame her for it, and he does, which gets Provenza off his back. But he wants to really blame her for it, seeing that it is all her fault, and to really blame her he needs to tell why she's making him crazy. But he can't. So he stays moody and scowls at her until she catches him looking.

Dinner doesn't happen, but later in the week Daniel has a game so he meets her at that. He sits by Sharon and they talk about how great their son plays. She's wearing her perfume. He feels like a schoolboy. She smiles politely and Danny glares at him when his mother isn't looking. Flynn notes that it isn't a Raydor glare, and that makes him smile because he decides it must be one of his.

"So the holiday is coming up, do you have plans?" she asks while Danny heads for the car.

"Plans?"

"With your, well, if you do…"

"No, I don't have plans. Ex is out of town, so Jesse goes with her."

"I'm sorry about that, Andy."

"Me too," he shrugs. "So what did you have in mind?"

"You could come over, if you'd like. Maybe grill. I told Danny he could invite some friends over, so well, that way you want have to endure his glares for the whole evening."

Flynn cracks a smile. "So you noticed that too?"

"I wasn't always in FID, detective," she returns with a grin of her own.

"Still getting the cold shoulder?"

"We had a whole three sentence conversation the other day. I see that as progress." She pushes her shades on top of her head, glancing at Daniel as he climbs into the driver's side of the Jeep. "We need to tell him. I just don't know how."

Flynn watches his son pretend to play with the radio dial as he sneaks glances towards them. "Telling him sooner rather than later is best I suppose."

"I thought you'd be ready by now," Sharon faces him, her off duty look of blue jeans and a cotton tee still throwing him for a loop.

"I think I like you in casual clothes."

"Good dodge."

He smirks. "Right now he just hates me because he thinks I'm an asshole. How much do you think he's going to hate me when he finds out that I'm not just an ass, but that he's related to me?"

"He'll get over it." Sharon frowns as Flynn drops his gaze and kicks at the grass. "Andy," she says, placing her hand on his arm so that he looks at her, "he will get over it."

"How do you know?"

"Because he's my son, too."

He holds her gaze until she drops her hand and starts to turn away. "They haven't said anything."

"Did you think they would?" She looks toward the Jeep and he knows she's thinking of walking away.

"Gabriel maybe, but Sanchez isn't stupid. Beside, Louie thinks I hate you again so I know they haven't said anything."

"Do you hate me again?" Sharon asks, not looking at him until he doesn't answer and curiosity gets the best of her. He shrugs when she meets his eyes.

"You haven't said anything."

"I said it was getting complicated."

Flynn sighs, hiding his brown eyes behind dark shades. "Isn't it always?"

"Danny is going to honk the horn," she says, taking a step toward the car and putting her shades back over her eyes.

"So want me to bring the food?" he asks, following her.

"No, just show up."

A few feet from her car, Flynn takes her hand, which makes her stop and turn to him. "I don't hate you." She purses her lips, her eyes hidden behind her shades, but her mouth studying him. Finally she nods.

"I don't hate you either."

"Well, at least one Raydor is sort of on my side."

"I didn't say that," she grins and he wants to call her an ass, but he doesn't. "See you tomorrow."

"See you then." He waves at Danny, calling out, "you did great," which gets him a polite nod and a mumbled thanks. Flynn walks away, thinking how both of them are making him crazy and he'd really love a drink. He glances at his watch, remembering that it's Tuesday and Stan doesn't work on Tuesday. He needs to read over some files anyway, he decides, as he climbs in his car and starts the drive home.

Sharon Raydor soon knows why Lieutenant Andy Flynn didn't cut it in undercover work. He's too obvious. The 'goes with his gut' cop is miffed at her about something, which she can but will not name, and so he doesn't have to pretend to be annoyed with her at work. Unlike Provenza's treatment of her, she doesn't mind Flynn's so much if only because she doesn't care to address his issue with her anyway.

Sanchez and Gabriel are another story, and she loves toying with them whenever given the chance. It amazes her how many times she can find Andy Flynn coming out of a room by himself just as either Sanchez or Gabriel or both are rounding a corner. Perhaps it is mean of her to do so, but if killing two birds with one stone is great, getting three at once is just an ultimate prize too good not to go after.

"Oh, Lieutenant Flynn," she coyly calls to him just outside the men's room two seconds before Gabriel rounds the corner. From over Flynn's shoulder she sees the younger detective stop short as if suddenly uncertain of his destination. "I need to talk to you about some files," Sharon smiles sweetly, her eyes glinting.

"Files?" Andy wipes at his hands with a paper towel, knowing Sharon is up to something, but afraid to guess.

"The Thompson case, it was a few years back."

"Yeah, I remember that one. When do you need to talk?"

"When do you have time?" She notices the bit of mustard on his tie, taking his towel to wipe it away. "Missed a spot," Sharon grins and notices Gabriel looking even more awkward than she thought possible.

"Uh, time, um," Andy stammers.

"Never mind, Detective, now that I think about it, I need to give the files one more look over before talking to you." She hands back the towel, smiles her flashiest smile and turns on her heel. Flynn is left confused.

"Um, may I?" Gabriel dares ask, gesturing to the bathroom door Flynn is blocking.

"Oh, yeah, sorry." Andy moves, watching as Gabriel rushes past him. "So you wanna play," he murmurs as the realization of what Sharon is up to sinks in. "Okay, fine. We can play."

Flynn notices patterns more than anything. In his line of work, life and death is determined by patterns, so it pays to be on the lookout for them. It doesn't take him long to figure out Raydor's. Like clockwork, she's in by 8 every morning. She goes to her desk, puts down her briefcase and purse, grabs her coffee cup and heads to the break room. If she's in the office at 11:30, she tries to grab lunch, if not, she eats when she can like most cops. By afternoon, she needs another jolt, so if she's at her desk it's back to the break room for another round of coffee. Which is where he finds himself luckily enough when she's already there as well as when nobody else is around the office except for the two bumbling stakeout detectives.

"Smells good," he whispers, alerting her that he is well within her personal space. Raydor's good though, the jolt to her system no more than a quick intake of breath and not even noticeable except to him simply because he is so close to her.

"Made it myself," she manages to say as she debates if she should even attempt to turn round. "You, uh, need something?"

Flynn could shift a few inches to the side and give her some breathing room, but he doesn't intend to do so. "Just wondering about," he pauses, debating if he should push it and rest his chin on her shoulder. He grins and decides not. "The Thompson files." The door opens, Sanchez mutters a surprised 'sorry,' shuffles about and then the door closes. Flynn eases back, leaning against the counter while Raydor puts the coffee pot back and glares at him.

"What do you think you are doing?"

"Two can play at this game," he shrugs, "just thought you shouldn't get to have all the fun."

"Detective Flynn," she sits her mug down and starts to put her hand on her hip. "Captain Raydor." Flynn stands, reaches for the coffee pot and fills his mug. He glances at her, happy to see she's at a lost for words. He gives her a moment, seeing if she'll come up with anything.

Sharon sighs. "That was unprofessional, what I did to you the other day."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Excuse me?"

"Did you enjoy getting a rise out of Gabriel by flirting with me?" She starts to smile but quickly tries to hide it. Flynn leans in close, whispering in her ear, "I got a rise out of it, flirting with you." Stunned, Sharon recovers too late, watching the door close behind Andy Flynn.

"I mean, it was stupid of me to do it, but well something just came over me," Sharon sighs in between sips of her wine. The man sitting across from her at the small corner table is a bit older, blue eyes full of mischief, and what's left of his gray hair tasteful trimmed. He sips at his scotch neat in an attempt to quell his laugh, but his eyes give him away. "What?"

"It's called letting loose, Raydor. Took you long enough."  
>"Sarge," she starts, but his laugh cuts her off.<p>

"Andy Flynn has you all in a thither. I never would have thought it," her training officer, retired Sergeant Sam Wagner guffaws. "And so he gave a bit back and now what, you digging in that rule book?"

Sharon hides her frown behind her wine glass. "I like my rule book."

"It's good most times, but remember what I taught you?"

"I don't think now is the time for me to start tossing it aside, Sarge."

Wagner sits his glass down and leans on his elbows. "Ok, let me go back over the evidence. You and Flynn did the deed, which gave you Daniel. Now you've both figured this out and haven't yet told Daniel, so you're sneaking around not just at the office but at home. All that sneaking tends to lead to some interesting situations." Wagner grins, "Human nature and all that."

"Perhaps," Sharon shrugs.

"What are you not telling me?" Wagner studies her, and Sharon deflects her gaze.

"So what do you know about him?"

Sam sits back, signaling for another drink. "You've read his file. More than once now I hear. How's the investigation going?"

"Slow," Raydor huffs, nodding when the waiter asks if she wants another glass of white, "You know how these things go. One investigation opens the floodgate for more."

"So you and Flynn will be seeing a lot of each other for sometime," he winks.

"You're not as cute as you think you are."

"You still love me, Raydor, and one day you'll admit it."

"Ha!" Sharon sips her wine to hide her smile.

"Andy Flynn," Sam begins, sliding his finger along the rim of his glass. "When he was drinking, it was rough, but since he's been sober I haven't heard more than the usual on him. He acts from his gut, bit emotional for my taste." He glances at Raydor. "But I lucked out with you." She scoffs, and Wagner chuckles. "Are you asking how is he as a man or as a cop?"

"Is there a difference?"

Sam holds her gaze, reviewing the situation. "Raydor, Raydor, Raydor. I never thought you would."

Sharon jerks her eyes up to his. "I would what?"

"Don't play innocent with me." Sam takes a drink, enjoying both the slow burn of the scotch and the look in Sharon's eyes. "You and Andy Flynn."

"He is the father of my son."

"And not near a bastard like the one you once thought was. No, there's more to this than parental concern."

"So how's Abby?"

"Two kids down, one on the way. Calls every three days and visits once a month. And you have feelings for Andy Flynn."

"You can call them that," Sharon quips, downing her drink. "Felt like strangling him earlier."

Wagner holds back a grin, knowing his probie all too well. "So call me in a couple of days when you let yourself in on the secret, okay."

"Call you?" Sharon asks as she stands and reaches for her purse.

"So I can tell you I told you so." Wagner shakes his head when she tries to pay. "I got this one. Go rest that pretty head of yours. You're going to need all your wits if you're tangling with Andy Flynn."

Sharon hesitates, but lets the old man have his way. "Thanks for listening, Sam."

"Anytime," he holds up his glass while she walks away, muttering again about her tangling with Andy Flynn as he sips his drink.

Cranberry and soda won't ever replace what he'd rather be drinking while saddled up to the bar, spilling his secrets to Stan, but times change and so did Andy Flynn.

"So wait, you have a kid with her?"

"Yeah, you know, crazy huh?" Flynn uses one of those little black straws to stir the ice in his drink as Stan wipes down the bar and moves to refill the peanut bowl beside him. Forty or so with a pot belly and a tight lip, Stan and Flynn go way back to the best and worst of his drinking days. Even though Stan hates the cut in revue from him being sober, he much prefers Flynn as a friend than as a drunk and disorderly.

"With the hellcat that was in here the other day?"

"Yep."

Stan lets out a whistle. "Got yourself a tiger."

"By the tail," Flynn finishes, tossing a peanut in his mouth.

"You know," Stan pauses in mid-wipe of his cloth as a thought strikes him, "I think she can take the ex."

"Oh I know she can," Andy grins. "And yes that did cross my mind, but she's a cop, too. FID."

"Ouch. You did screw yourself royally."

"Aw, she's not that bad."

Stan moves away, filling an order for one of the waitresses then grabbing a beer for a guy a couple of stools down. When he comes back to Flynn, he's grinning from ear to ear. "She does have a nice pair."

"Nice set, too."

"I hear those good little girl types have the wildest sides. Is it true?"

Flynn shrugs, "Can't remember. Well, just in flashes."

"Damn man, that'd be the one you'd want to remember, too." Stan laughs, sipping on a water as he leans back against the counter. "So what's your problem? She won't let you see the kid?"

"No, she's been fair about that, more than I thought she would be." Flynn wipes the peanut oil from his fingers on a napkin and braces his elbows on the bar. "She just, she makes me crazy."

"Oh, no, you need to get out now then. Cut and run."

"Cut and run?"

"Your ex, before you married her, she made you crazy right?" Flynn gives this a moment of thought before nodding. "Well, that right there should be enough warning."

"It's just physical, Stan," Flynn shrugs him off. "You've had that right? Got a little wasted, ended up with a fox in your bed but you can't remember it so you want to have another go."

"Uh, Andy, that go was a while back if the kid is nearly sixteen and you can think of it that way if you want, but having a go and going crazy are two very different things my friend." Andy frowns. "The woman I saw was certainly full of passion, so I can't say I blame you for wanting a taste of it. But I can't recall seeing you this messed up over a hellcat."

"Messed up?"

"You're the man, Andy Flynn. You love 'em and leave 'em. If this is just physical, go pick up Jules over there. She'll make you forget all about the hellcat."

Flynn turns toward the booth in the corner Stan is gesturing at to see a very attractive twenty-something blonde. She sips her cocktail and laughs at something her dark haired friend says. Instead of thinking Stan's right and heading her way, Flynn feels his lip slide downward as he picks up his glass. "Not my type," he reluctantly admits.

"Since when?"

"What day is it again," he quips, downing his drink.

"Want another?"

"Think I'll call it a night. Thanks for the ear, Stan." Flynn lays down a twenty and heads for the door while Stan collects the money and shakes his head.

"Another one bites the dust," he mumbles.

Across town, David Gabriel pushes his beer away from him and shakes his head. "I'm just going to tell her we didn't see anything and pray she lets it go."

"You're an idiot," Julio Sanchez replies, waving away the bartender. "If you say anything you are admitting you saw something. You think she's on you now. I just hope I don't have to ride with Flynn anytime soon."

"Flynn? What'd he do?"

Sanchez raises his brow and shakes his head slowly. "Just be glad you weren't there."

"So what, we just deal with this?"

"Gabriel, if you so much as think about talking to her, I'll choke you myself."

"Fine," David sighs before taking a swing of his beer. "But can we at least do something to Provenza?"

"I'm already working on that one," Sanchez grins.


	6. Chapter 6

The unit catches a couple of gangland murders so Raydor's attention is on Chief Johnson for the next few days. Her holiday plans are touch and go until the day before, but Johnson manages to solve her case in time for the detectives to have the holiday off.

"To Flynn: Dinner's still on. Come around 6. You know my address?"

"To WW: Yes I do. I'll bring the beer =)"

Danny fakes right sliding the ball past Matt with a well aimed kick. It lands in the upper right corner of the soccer net, well out of his friend's reach. "Sweet!" Danny pumps his fist.

"Nice one Raydor," Matt says, kicking the ball back to him. "So who's coming over tonight?"

"Some guy my mom works with," Danny mutters, his focus more on getting the ball to rest on the top of his foot. "Flynn maybe."

"Same guy who went to the game?"

"Yeah, Major Crimes dick."

Matt frowns, his attention drawn to Sharon Raydor and the tray she's carrying. He has to stand on tiptoes to see up the hill to the pool and cookout area. "Is she humming?"

"You hear it too?" Daniel asks and Matt nods. "She does that when she's nervous."

"How long has she known this Flynn guy?"

Danny shrugs. "He just popped up, but you know my mom doesn't tell me stuff."

"You got a bad feeling?"

"Something's up," Danny says, glancing across the pool to where his mother is by the grill. "She's not acting right."

"Well, just make sure you invite me to the wedding," Matt quips, kicking the ball from under Danny's foot. He tears off down the well manicured lawn, racing toward the goal while Danny shouts and tries to catch up.

"Just a minute," Sharon calls out of habit when she hears the doorbell ring. Dressed in white slacks, a black and white leopard print top and sandals, she nibbles on a cucumber slice as she heads to the door. Andy Flynn peers at her over his shades and holds up a bag.

"Not really beer," he grins.

"I didn't think it would be." Sharon steps back, gesturing for him to come in. "I think I have most of what you'll need on the patio. That is if you don't mind taking charge of the grill."

Flynn smirks, "Not at all." He whistles as he looks up at the cathedral ceiling, seeing the large window on the upstairs landing. "Nice digs, Raydor."

Sharon smiles, noticing Andy's wandering eye. "Would you like a tour?"

"Do you offer them at certain times?"

She rolls her eyes before taking a few steps. "The living room," she gestures to her left. Andy looks in the doorway to see an extensive room with several leather couches and a large television. A fireplace with bookshelves on either sides of it is on the farthest wall with a comfortable looking reading chair nearby.

"Those rugs imported?"

"Heirlooms," Raydor replies. "Master bedroom is that way," she points to her left but doesn't move.

"What? No letting me get a peek at the Raydor sanctuary?"

"Not yet," she quips, "Upstairs are the kids' rooms and a guest bedroom, two on each side of the landing. And through here," Sharon walks through a large arch way, "is the kitchen and patio." Flynn follows her out to the backyard, his jaw dropping at the sight.

"Okay, so large house and expansive outdoors." He takes it all in, from the resort style pool complete with hidden grotto under the rock formation slide to the large grassy area that leads the eye to a view of the mountains. When he turns back to the house, he lets out another slow whistle just as Sharon walks past him.

"Hello baby, come to Papa," he catcalls. Raydor whips around, the remark on her lips dying at the sight of Flynn drooling over her grill. She sighs heavily.

"The attraction between men and outdoor appliances is something I have yet to understand."

Flynn ignores her, shoving the bag he's been carrying her way as he heads toward the oversize stainless steel monstrosity. "This is amazing."

"Well, then I guess you know how to work all the bells and whistles?"

"And you don't?" Flynn studies the grill, caressing it as if it were a priceless treasure.

"Flynn, most nights I barely have time to run a microwave. Do you really think I use that thing?"

He chuckles, reaching down to cut on the gas tank. "So what do you want me to cook on this fine invention?" Sharon disappears into the kitchen for a few moments, returning with a silver covered tray. "People really use those things?"

"Only on special occasions. I didn't know what you'd like, so I just had the butcher put together a few things."

Flynn does another double take as she removes the lid. "T-bones, prime cuts, kabobs, are you expecting an army?"

Sharon shrugs, her gaze going to Danny and Matt as they race around the outer yard, "Just two always hungry teenage boys."

"Right then, lets get this baby fired up."

Sharon sips a glass of white wine while Flynn prepares the grill. She even makes him a cranberry and soda as he slaves away, a grin bigger than any she's ever seen on his face. They manage to chat about everything but work, some of the conversation about Danny, but most about their former spouses and why things didn't work.

"They still laughing?" Danny asks, his back firmly to his mother and her guest.

"Now and then," Matt tells him as he glances up at the pair. "He's not as bad as I thought he'd be, just one head is a surprise."

"Ha ha," Danny scoffs. "They making out yet?"

"I think he has a thing for the grill."

"So did the last guy."

"Daniel, Matt, come wash up," Sharon calls to them.

"And so we are summoned," Danny huffs, flipping the soccer ball up with his foot and catching it with his hands.

"Into the breach!" Matt yells, taking off in a run and gesturing for the ball. Danny tosses it to his friend, letting him reach the patio first while he drags behind. Sharon heads into the house, Matt on her heels as he goes to the kitchen sink to wash up.

"Hey Daniel, good to see you again," Flynn says, catching sight of his son as he flips the steaks. "What's your preference?"

"Rare works," Danny mutters. "You Major Crimes jerks giving my mom a hard time?"

Flynn keeps his back to the kid, shuffling the meat around and plating a couple of the steaks. "I tightened the leash on most of them. You giving her the silent treatment still?" He turns round to see Daniel's frown. "She isn't seeing anyone is she?"

"Huh?" Danny gives him a quizzical look, "you serious?"

"Just wondering."

"Hey Danny, can you grab some napkins when you finish washing up," Sharon asks as she comes back out. "The ones from—"

"Yeah, I'll get them," her son says, staring at Flynn until he goes inside.

"Everything ok?"

Flynn chuckles, "yeah, going good. Medium rare, right?"

"Uh, yes," Sharon replies, turning from Flynn to watch Danny moving around in the kitchen. "That smells really good."

"Of course it does," Flynn smirks, "I cooked it."

While Flynn joins Daniel and Matt in drinking a soda, Sharon switches to red wine Flynn brought over when they sit down to eat. She closely watches Danny's reaction to everything Flynn says and has to reprimand herself for it when she thinks he's catching on to her scrutiny. But Danny is doing some investigating of his own, enlisting Matt to keep an eye out for any and all bodily contact between Flynn and his mother. At the end of the meal, the two boys start to head off, but Sharon interrupts their plans.

"Flynn cooked, so you two get to thank him by clearing the table, please," she adds the last with a full wattage smile.

"Fine," Danny reluctantly agrees.

"It was really good, Mr. Flynn," Matt adds, diving in to the chore.

"We're going to walk around the grounds. Matt, it was so nice having you over. Perhaps you can stay next weekend if you'd like?"

The boys exchange glances, both schooled in this verbiage from adults. "Oh, yes, Ms. Raydor, I'll check with my parents. Thanks for dinner. I'll head out after we clean up if that's ok?"

"That'll be fine," she smiles and starts toward the outer yard.

"Grounds?" Flynn asks, catching up with her.

"Just a couple of acres really, but grounds is a term my grandmother used so I picked it up."

"Did I mention that my entire apartment building would fit in your living room?" He says, brushing his shoulder against hers as they walk side by side down the back path. Sharon grins and puts her shades on. "I like you without your glasses. But I have to say, I'm a bit disappointed that you weren't in a bathing suit."

At that she laughs, "I thought I'd save that for another day since my casual look seems to have thrown you. Didn't want to put you in a full state of shock."

"Hmm, I think I could have dealt with it." He puts his hand on the small of her back when the path narrows and he momentarily falls behind. "So you still want to tell him?"

"I think we should."

"Have you told Rick?"

"He was informed," Sharon glances at her watch, "about twenty minutes ago."

Flynn smirks. "Lawyer?"

"One of the perks."

"Nice perk."

Matt hangs out until they catch sight of Danny's mom coming back up the path, Flynn still close behind. "I kinda like bow-ties, so if they go full out, suggest those," he cracks, dodging the pillow Daniel tosses at his head on his way out of the living room. "Call me with the date, Raydor," he says waving goodbye.

"So where should we do this?"

Sharon stops by the pool, debating if they even should do this. "Flynn, maybe we should…"

"Do you really want Rick to tell him?" Flynn suggests even if it is a long shot. Sharon gives it a second of thought and decides it isn't worth the risk.

"Wait here."

Flynn suddenly finds that he doesn't know what to do with his hands, nor does he know if he wants to sit or stand. Instead he leans against the brick column by the grill, folding his arms along his chest and crossing his feet. And he waits.

Daniel does look like he is attending his own execution as he slumps in a lounge chair, refusing to look at anything other than his feet. Sharon pushes his shoes off the end of the chair so she can sit down beside him.

"So Daniel, I have something to tell you."

"When?"

"Excuse me?" Sharon glances from her son to Flynn, who shrugs. Looking back at her son, the similarity between him and Andy is striking.

"The date, the two of you?" He barely looks up, gesturing between them. Flynn squints, looking from Danny to Raydor, his eyes going wide when what the kid is getting at hits him. He starts to laugh.

"What?" Sharon stares at Andy as Daniel finally looks at his mom.

"Relax kid, we're not getting married."

"Married?"

"Wait, you aren't dating her?" Confused, Danny looks at Flynn, the earlier question about his mom dating anyone coming back. "Is that why you asked?"

"Just making sure."

"Asked what?" Sharon holds up her hand in a wait a minute gesture that goes unnoticed.

"Look, how much do you like your dad, honestly?" Flynn pushes off the brick column and takes a seat across from Daniel and Sharon. He waves his hand when Danny looks at his mom. "It's ok to say the truth, she understands."

"He's a jerk," the kid shrugs. Flynn cuts his eyes to Raydor, who is glaring at him. 'What are you doing,' she mouths. He shrugs.

"So how would you feel if he wasn't your dad?"

Daniel raises an eyebrow, but keeps his gaze on his fingers as he picks at his nail. "Guess it wouldn't matter. Don't really see him anyway."

"Daniel, look at me," Sharon quickly says with another glare at Flynn. "Danny," she begins again in a softer tone, taking his hand and waiting until he gives her his full attention. "I want you to meet Andy Flynn," she forces out, "your father."

Andy Flynn is again in that moment when he's wondering when he forgot to breathe. Feeling like he's in the midst of a ping pong match, he finds his gaze darting between mother and son, flicking from one pair of green eyes to the other, waiting, watching, begging for one of them to make a move, to take a breath.

"Did you—"

"Wait, what—"

Tie game, Flynn's little internal voice shouts as Danny and Sharon speak at the same time. Then he swallows hard as their gazes turn to him.

"He's my dad? How?"

"Long story."

"I want to hear it."

Flynn shrinks under their scrutiny and he doesn't like it, so he clears his throat and fidgets. Sharon starts talking, mainly out of fear that if she doesn't, he will. "Your, uh Rick and I were separated. Flynn and I…" He lets her hang for a moment mainly because old habits die hard, but the sight of her searching expression causes a pang that freaks him out a little.

"We just found out, so don't think your mom's been keeping secrets from you."

"So I really was an accident?"

"That doesn't mean anything, Daniel," Sharon tries to pull him to her but her son resists so she tightens her hold on his hand instead.

"Does Dad," he stops, looks at Flynn, then back to his mom, "does he know?"

"I made sure he was told."

"So he hasn't said anything?"

Sharon looks at her watch, "he hasn't called but I didn't want—"

"Lawyer?"

"You know how he is," she nods. Danny stares up at the sky, his lower lip quivering. "I wanted you to know first. Give him some time, he'll probably call."

"And say what, cool, now I really don't have to show up for your games?" Danny's eyes are full of anger when he looks at his mom. "I'll hold my breath for that one. So Lily and Kate?"

"I'll call them in the morning."

"And then what? You going to be hanging around?" he cuts his eyes at Flynn.

"If you want me hanging around," Flynn shrugs. "But let's get something straight now." He leans his elbows on his knees, relaxing his shoulders as he holds Daniel's gaze. "I'm not the good parent. I'm not the free guilt trip. And I'm not the make Mom let me. No, I haven't been around regardless the reason, but I'm here now. I'll be at your games. I'll help with any homework except Literature, and if you need a ride home I'm always a phone call away. Fair?"

Danny keeps a straight face, his mind working over Flynn's words before he nods. "Fair."

"I want to get to know you, Danny, on your terms. Okay?"

"Yeah, okay." He pulls his hand away from Sharon's, flipping his gaze between it and Flynn's. "So you really are my dad?"

"Yeah, the test proved it."

"Okay."

"So, you have any questions?" Sharon finally speaks, resisting the urge to brush at her son's hair.

"It wasn't an affair?"

Sharon lowers her head, whispering, "No, it was…"

"It's called a whirlwind romance," Flynn says, impressing himself with an expression worthy of Tao. Sharon shoots him a glance, which he returns with a wink. "Your mom and I weren't really right for each other back then."

"Are you now?" Danny looks from Flynn to his mother, getting blank looks from both. "So you aren't dating?"

"Of course we aren't. I'm practically his superior with my new assignment."

"Superior?" Flynn questions, but Raydor waves him off, her attention back on her son. "We both love you, Danny. That's the most important thing for you to know, okay?"

He nods, his hazel eyes shifting from her to Flynn. His quietness doesn't sit well with Sharon, but she really isn't sure what else to say or do. Daniel makes the decision for her, standing as he says, "I think I want to go to bed." He turns, gaze on Flynn for a long moment as he compares their similarities. "So I'm related to a Major Crimes jerk?"

"Daniel!" Sharon chastises as Flynn chuckles.

"Recovering," he says, "Your mom's a good influence."

Daniel looks at her and nods, "Is this why you're being nicer to her?"

"Part of it," he admits and Sharon isn't sure if she should frown or smile. "And, truthfully," Flynn leans a little closer to Danny as if to let him in on a secret, "she's getting faster reflexes." That gets a smile from the kid.

"I hear she's got a mean right hook, at least Uncle Martin said she could smack him when they were kids."

"I'm still here," Sharon pipes up. "Danny," she reaches for his hand, careful to not coddle him even though she wants to, "Are you okay?"

He shrugs. "I have a new dad. Why would I not be okay?" He gives her a quick hug, saying, "Night Mom," then heads to the kitchen door before turning to look at Flynn.  
>"Goodnight, Andy Flynn, my father," he says, the words stumbling out as he tries them together for the first time. Flynn just grins.<br>"Night, kid." He and Sharon watch as Daniel goes inside, him shaking his head at the lack of yelling, and Raydor forcing herself stay put when all she wants is to wrap her child in her arms as if he were a toddler again. "Well, good to know he has your level-head," Flynn says when Danny is out of earshot. Sharon isn't sure if it's a compliment or not, but it makes her smile and at the moment that's all that matters.


	7. Chapter 7

"Daniel, I'm leaving," Sharon Raydor calls out, grabbing her car keys, purse and briefcase as her son comes down the stairs. "Do you want poptarts or—"

"Do we have time to run by that place you like?"

Sharon pauses, taking time to really look at her child. Dressed in his usual school wear, full backpack over his shoulder, dark hair neatly combed, Danny gives her a smile. "Uh, sure," she manages, "we can." She stares at him a moment longer.

"Well, let's go then," Danny grabs her briefcase from her and heads to the garage door.

The hot LA sun is unrelenting and as uncaring about the victim sprawled on the pavement, as it is the officers examining the crime scene. Captain Raydor stands just outside the circle the Major Crimes' detectives unwittingly form as they conduct their investigation. She remains well within earshot, moving to stand beside each of the detectives every few minutes, just to remind them that she's still there.

"Detective Sanchez, have those people been questioned?" Brenda Leigh Johnson, decked out in a summer dress with a pink cardigan and her oversized hat and shades, gestures to a group of men and women just behind the yellow crime scene tape.

"Most of them showed up after ma'am. Tao is talking to the two who may have seen something."

"Hey Chief, got a casing here," Flynn calls out from about fifty feet away. He leans down near the curb, using his pen to brush back some blades of grass to get a better view of the gold metal. He looks back toward Johnson, who is standing just right of the body. Behind her, Raydor shifts, distracting him. She's wearing a skirt, nothing fancy, just a plain old gray skirt, but her legs are bare and starting to tan.

"Detective Flynn!" The sharpness of Johnson's words has Flynn blinking and swiftly looking back at her.

"Ma'am?"

"Just one? Looks like he was shot at least four times."

"Uh, I'll look."

"Yeah, I bet you will," Provenza cracks, kicking at the grass near his partner. "Even if it is her, still beats the other view."

Flynn glares at Louie, but can't help taking another look at Raydor. A stickler for rules, she's wearing a jacket, but it's unbuttoned and reveals the dark green v-neck blouse she's wearing under it. She smiles when she catches his eyes, and Flynn thinks he could use some water, his mouth going dry and all.

"I think we've checked that way," Louie points out, ribbing him more.

As Johnson directs her men, Raydor pays close attention, notepad at hand to document any flaw in the procedure. It's tedious work and she'd rather be anywhere else, but she can't prove that to the squad.

"Captain, are you going to get that?"

"What?"

"Isn't that your phone?"

"Oh, sorry, right," Sharon snaps back into the moment, hearing her ringtone. "Hello, this is Captain Raydor."

"Hello Captain, this is Amy Farris from Lincoln West, I'm calling about Daniel."

"Daniel, what's happened? Is everything okay?"

"Daniel wasn't in his 11 o'clock class. I don't believe he was scheduled to be out for any appointments but I wanted to check with you."

"No, he wasn't," Sharon murmurs, her mind racing to pinpoint a reason why her son is not at school. She checks her watch, noting it's past noon. "Why are you just calling now?

"Computers have been frizzing today. We just got in the roll reports."

"No one came by to pick him up?"

"No ma'am, he has not signed out through the office."

"I dropped him off this morning."

"Yes ma'am, he was in his homeroom, but oh, he didn't report to his 9 or 10 o'clock class either."

"Wait, what?"

"The teacher was a sub for that block. I'm sorry Captain Raydor."

"Fine, then," she thinks a second before asking, "What about Matt Tiener, Drew Richards or Tyler Morgan?"

Raydor hears the secretary clicking away at her keyboard before saying, "No reports on them. All those boys are in class."

"Damn," Raydor mumbles, "Okay, Amy, thanks for telling me. I'll call him and straighten this out. Thank you." She hangs up and taps her phone against her palm, contemplative stare fully in place. Flynn stands, giving up on his search for more casings at the sight of Sharon. Johnson, still standing between the two notices Flynn staring her way and turns to see Raydor behind her.

"Captain, anything you'd like to add?"

"What? Oh, no Chief, just standing here," Raydor replies, diverting her gaze back to her phone's number pad. She speed dials Daniel's phone, tapping her foot as it rings then goes to voicemail. "I'm not mad, yet," she says, "but if you don't call me soon with what I know will be a wonderful explanation I will be more than furious. Love you."

Flynn notices from her demeanor that something is up and so he begins to inch closer to Raydor. He catches the tail end of her conversation, but it's only enough to confuse him. Trying to catch her eye, he moves his head in a 'what's up' manner. Sharon shakes her head in reply and works her fingers across her phone's screen. She fires off the text then looks back at their cars parked a few yards away. Flynn sees her mutter a cuss word.

"Chief, I'm going to need to borrow one of your detectives' cars."

"Well, we're not done here yet, Captain, so you'll just have to wait," Johnson says as she bends down to get a closer inspection of the dead teenager with four possible bullet wounds.

Sharon's lips thin as she bites her tongue and thinks about her response. "I would not ask if this were not an emergency."

"That term means different things to different people. I'm sure if you can wait a few more minutes."

"Now is not the time to agitate me, Chief Johnson," Raydor says in a forced calm tone. Flynn sees her stance change and knows this is not going to be good.

"Here," he rushes up, digging the keys to his car from his pocket. "I'll catch a ride with Sanchez."

"Thank you, Detective," Raydor grabs the keys and turns.

"Is everything?" he starts to ask, dropping his voice level and taking a couple of steps after her.

"Fine," she rushes out, picking up the pace toward the car.

"Detective Flynn, I need your focus here," the Chief calls to him, "unless you find the Captain's drama more important that finding the killer of this young man."

"Right, no, sorry, Chief." Flynn gives her a chaste look and heads back to search for casings, his mind still on Raydor and what could have happened to make her leave in such a manner. When he has a moment away from the Chief's questioning glare, Flynn sends Raydor a text message with one word, "Danny?" He pretends to care about the dead body while waiting for a reply, but can't focus. It takes her too long, but finally his phone buzzes and he nearly drops it reaching so fast to grab it from his pant's pocket.

"I'll tell you later," the reply says.

"Like hell you will," he spouts, his face going rigid.

"What's up with you," Provenza bumps his arm, "sun getting to you? Or just the sight of Raydor in a skirt overwhelming?"

"Not now, Louie," Flynn snaps, his attention on his phone as he presses in Sharon's number. She doesn't answer. "Shit."

"Detective Flynn!"

"Yes, Chief, coming Chief," he responds, deciding that two annoying women are two too many.

On the way to her house, Raydor works through every worse case scenario, her cop background making each one ten times worse than the average parent's. By the time she pulls into the drive, she has her phone at the ready to dial Rick's number. Four seconds later, after she gives the downstairs a quick glance and starts up the stairs, she pushes the call button.

"Hello Sharon, thank you for letting me know about Daniel in such a personal manner."

"Is he there, Rick? Have you seen him?" she asks, rounding the corner to see Danny's empty bedroom.

"You've lost our, wait sorry, your son?"

"Don't be an ass, Rick, just answer the question."

"I haven't seen Daniel since," there's a pause as Rick tries to remember the last time he saw any of the children.

"That's all I needed to know," Sharon ends the call and begins to search her phone's address book while heading out back just to make sure he isn't there. "Daniel Atticus Raydor I swear," she seethes, dialing the first of every one of her son's favorite hangouts.

"Lily, hey, what's up?" Danny slouches in the public bus' side seat, keeping his backpack close as he talks on his phone to his sister.

"Not much small fry."

"Did Mom call you?" He asks, drumming his fingers along his leg as he waits for her reply.

"She left a voicemail saying we needed to talk, why what's up?" She glances at her clock, noticing the time and gets suspicious. "Why are you calling me at noon on a school day?"

"Um, lunch."

"Try again," Lily says in a tone eerily similar to their mother's. "Oh my god, are you skipping?"

"Lily."

"You are so dead! You know the school's going to call Mom."

"She's already called me like fifteen times, and I lost count of the texts." Daniel sinks lower in his seat, stretching his foot out to brace on the base of the metal grab pole in front of him.

"Daniel, call her now before she goes homicidal."

"I'm not talking to her."

"Please tell me you are not pouting about that stupid Playstation game. Kate's getting it for you for your birthday you idiot."

"Game, what? No, stupid this is not about a game. Our dad isn't my dad, okay? If you just had that dumped on you would you want to talk to her?" Danny lowers his voice and sits in a tighter huddle once he realizes a couple of the bus passengers are staring at him.

"Woah, back up, say that again?"

"Richard Raydor is not my father. Apparently it's some guy named Andy Flynn," he whispers in the phone.

Sitting in her apartment in Palo Alto, Lily sits up straighter in her chair and checks her phone to make sure the number is right. "Daniel, this is not funny. Do you have me on speaker? I will bust your head."

"I'm not joking, Lily, okay. I'm actually, well I was on my way to see you." At that Lily's stomach drops. Daniel, the quiet one of the three of them, never talked about his feelings so knowing he really was trying to runaway scares her.

"Wait is that why Mom called? I knew she sounded weird."

"She said she was going to tell you and Kate this morning. I got told last night with both of them there," he mumbles as a group of tourists get on the bus. The noise makes it hard for Lily to understand him.

"Daniel, where are you?" she raises her voice a notch, fear for her brother's well-being causing her to grip the phone tighter.

"The bus."

"Which bus?"

"Cop's kid, not getting anymore out of me."

Lily growls, "Fine, then tell me about not being Dad's kid."

Daniel takes a breath and gives Lily the summary of last night's conversation with his mom and Andy Flynn. "So I guess you should start calling me Daniel Flynn now," he quips.

"I'm not going to be calling you anything after Mom kills you. Where are you going? Are you still coming here?"

"No, I don't think so," Danny replies, "I don't know, around I guess."

"Daniel, this is not funny."

"Not laughing."

"Ugh, you idiot! Why are you acting like this?" Lily nearly screams, knowing that her mother is flipping out and wanting to strangle Danny as much as she does. "So Rick's not your dad, big loss. Take this as good news, Danny. Nobody can be as big an ass as him."

"Flynn's an alcoholic."

"What?"

"Google search. He's also one of the cops Mom's having to work with now since that gangster got whacked on Major Crimes' watch. He's a royal ass, Lily."

His sister sighs heavily and is silent for a long while. "You said you went to a game with him, right?"

"Yeah."

"And? Before you knew what he did, what did you think?"

Daniel shrugs, sighing into the phone. "He was okay."

"Give it a chance, Danny. I know it's shocking, but you running off is not cool. Please call Mom."

"Why? You're going to when I hang up."

"Little ass."

"Runs in the family," he snaps, disconnecting the call.

After Lily's call, Sharon starts a grid search of all the buses going anywhere near the route to Palo Alto. Knowing her son has likely abandoned the bus line doesn't deter her search; but simply intensifies it. She jumps every time her phone chimes, thinking Daniel might have sent her a text. And then she frowns at each sight of another message from Andy Flynn. When noon turns to late evening and then to dusk, Sharon finds a parking lot, pulls in and parks. Turning off the car's ignition, she leans her head on the steering wheel and stops fighting the urge to cry.


	8. Chapter 8

Flynn goes through the motions until he can get back to the squad room and fake a sudden illness. Actually that doesn't happen, but he does consider it. After the Chief has them search the crime scene and a hundred yard radius of it for the twelfth time, she finally decides to let the body and them go. To say Andy Flynn sprints to Sanchez's car is an understatement. Provenza is out of breath when he catches up to them and climbs in the backseat.

"Where we going?"

"Downtown," Julio remarks, turning the car toward the station.

"I thought Flynn had a hot date he needs to get to," Louie jabs, nudging Flynn's shoulder with his elbow as he leans across the front seat. Andy pays no attention to him, keeping his eyes on his phone. Sharon has ignored every one of his last ten messages and her phone is going straight to voicemail. Flynn curses. "She hasn't cancelled on you has she?"

Sanchez shifts closer to the driver's side door, one hand near the handle in case he needs to stop fast and break up a fight. He isn't sure that whatever is upsetting Flynn has anything to do with Sharon Raydor, but he isn't going to bet his paycheck against it.

"Don't take the long way," Flynn says to him, his eyes straight ahead. Sanchez nods and speeds up.

"I can go lights."

"No, well, no. Just as quick as you can."

"Woah, Flynn, what's your hurry? Afraid she isn't going to keep? Gotta say, Raydor was looking pretty hot under the sun today. I thought you were done with her but well, if you just gotta scratch an itch—" The older detective chokes on his words when Flynn's full fury turns on him.

"Louie, if you value our friendship you'll stop now," he says through tight-lips, his brown eyes boring a hole through the man.

"You like her?"

"This isn't about her, it's about our son."

The noise inside the car descends into an eerie quiet as the men hold their breath and digest what Andy Flynn let slip. He mutters another curse, mentally kicking himself as he turns round to face forward again. Deciding that the saying discretion is the better part of valor is a good motto to follow right about now, Sanchez keeps quiet and slips the blue light from under his seat onto the dash. He flips the two switches to the left of the steering wheel on and increases speed. Flynn doesn't say a word. And thankfully, neither does Provenza.

Leaving the station parking garage, Flynn calls her phone one more time. "Sharon, call me now damn it! He's my kid, too!" He slams his car door shut and, not knowing what else to do, heads to his apartment, all the while formulating what he will do to Sharon Raydor if and when he is able to put his hands around her neck.

Arriving at his apartment building, Flynn takes the steps two at a time, working off his frustration. He stops short at the sight of his door slightly ajar. Andy pulls his gun, holding it down beside his leg as he shoulders the door open. A quick glance inside has him breathing a sigh of relief and holstering his weapon.

"What the hell are you doing?" he yells at his son, who is spread out in his recliner, remote in hand as he sips a soda.

"Hey Dad, how was work today?" Danny flashes a grin which quickly disappears as Flynn slams the door shut and flies across the room. Daniel pushes the recliner's leg rest down and stands up fast, knocking the back of his legs into the chair as he scrambles out of the way.

"Do you know what you've put me and your mother through? Do you even know where she is?"

"I, um, isn't she, don't!" Daniel flinches back, throwing his arms up as Flynn reaches for him. Andy stops short of grabbing his son, deciding at the last second to throw his hands on his hips in a stance similar to one he's seen Sharon take.

"Look at me! Have you called your mother?" He barks out, the fury Provenza saw earlier in his eyes now doubled. Daniel meekly shakes his head.

"What's your problem, kid?"

"You! Okay!" Danny shouts back, his confidence that Andy Flynn isn't going to strike him growing. "What did you do anyway? Get wasted and knock her up?"

"Sit down," Flynn says in a quiet, restrained tone. "Sit now." He points and Danny falls back into the chair. He watches the man who is his father run a hand through his silvery hair before letting out a long huff as he sits down on the couch across from him.

"What happened between your mother and me is none of your concern. It happened. Period. That's all you need to know. You are not allowed to use that against her, ever. Do you understand me?"

"Why not?"

"Because," Flynn stares at him, "I said you can't. Do you really want to push me on this?" Danny swallows hard and shakes his head. "All you need to know is she loves you more than life and you are hurting her worse than you can imagine right now."

"Do you love me?" If not for his lowered head and his submissive posture, Flynn might have dismissed the question as a smart-ass remark. Instead he sees Danny's sincerity and pauses, some of his anger dissipating.

"Honestly, yeah, I do," Andy admits. He settles back on the couch, the weight of the day's worry falling from his shoulders. "You're mine, so loving you is automatic."

Danny snorts, "Tell that to my other dad."

"I don't know the guy, but I can assure you that me almost taking off your head was all out of worry and fear and love for you and for your mom," he adds without even thinking.

"But you don't know me," Daniel says, raising his head enough so Flynn can look into his green eyes. "What?"

"You have your mother's eyes."

"Do you love her?"

Flynn flinches at the question. "Love, Sharon, I—" and he can't say no which throws him, but he isn't sure about a yes.

"I should call her," Daniel interjects as the sight of his mother's worried face finally flashes in his mind.

"Yes, you should," Flynn nods, happy for the distraction from his son's question. He sees the clock and is stunned at how late it is. "Have you eaten? Are you hungry?" Danny looks back from digging in his backpack and shrugs.

"Why?"

"I don't get to do this parent thing often kid, so you'll have to give me some leeway here." Flynn grabs his phone and speed dials the local delivery place. "Italian blend good for you?"

"That works," Danny says, grabbing his phone and sitting back down on the recliner's edge. "Parent thing often? What's that mean?" he asks when Flynn hangs up.

"I, uh, you have a brother, Jesse."

"Wow and I thought this week couldn't get anymore interesting," the kid deadpans but Flynn just chuckles. "What?"

"Nothing," the detective shakes his head thinking how much like him Danny is.

"So when do I get to meet Jesse?"

"When my ex-wife stops being a," Flynn pauses, reminding himself that although Daniel is a teenager, he is not just any teenager, "when she stops being difficult and allows him to visit."

"Older?"

"Younger, Jesse's thirteen."

Daniel nods, digesting this new information, "So you and my mom and that whirlwind romance…"

"I'm not joking, Daniel," Flynn's eyes harden, "there are lines."

"I'm not crossing any," Danny holds up his hands in surrender. "Just tell me it wasn't some affair from you either, that you weren't dodging responsibility or—" Flynn reaches across the short distance between him and his son to grab Daniel's hand.

"Look at me," his says, his eyes locking with his son's, "If I had known that you were mine I would have been there from day one."

"Before or after your AA meetings," Daniel asks with a straight-face. Andy feels the pang that hits each time someone calls him on his life back then, however, this pang hits harder than most. He drops his head and bites his tongue to prevent his usual defensive wise-crack from spilling out. "Amazing what you can find on the Internet these days. Apparently you were at an AA meeting a few months back when a guy attacked you. How's your side?"

"I remember what it was like to be your age," Andy says, his voice strained as he tries to keep calm. "I don't remember much from some years, but I remember that one. Everything pisses you off, the world sucks and your parents don't know shit." He looks up, his eyes meeting Daniel's in an unflinching stand-off. "I've got a past and I've had some problems. If you want reasons to hate me, you won't have to look hard to find some. Just ask your mom."

As Flynn talks, Daniel feels his mouth go dry and tries to swallow but his throat feels tighter. Flashing in his mind are the images of his mother and Flynn from the ballpark, of her smile when the doorbell rang the night before, and then he sees her like she looked that time he fell out of the tree and broke his arm. Rick hadn't been in town that day, and when he came home all he did was mutter a "be more careful" to Danny as he walked to his office and closed the door. The only time Rick had ever raised his voice at Danny, in a tone even close to how Andy had earlier, was when Danny wanted to play ball and accidentally made Rick hang up on a client. Daniel's face starts to flush at the realization that the man before him, who doesn't even know him, really does care about him more than the guy who thought he was his father ever did. Daniel sinks lower, feeling more than regret for his stupid crack.

"Um, I…" Daniel's voice is hesitant. He clears his throat and tries again, "I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I'm sorry I worried you and that I haven't given you a chance." He holds Flynn's gaze, watching as the man sits back and slowly nods.  
>"Okay," Flynn says at last, "call your mom. Food should be here soon. You can go wash up, I take it you've found the bathroom?" Daniel shakes his head as he stands. "So you can pick locks but you don't go snooping?"<p>

"Bachelor pad; isn't really much I haven't seen," his son smirks.

"Does your mom know about your skill?"

"She thought me," his grin widens, "locked the keys in the house one too many times so she had to pick the lock. I helped." Flynn scoffs, shaking his head. "So is that it?"

"I'm sure your mom will have plenty to say to you. But," Andy stands, noting that even though Danny is closing in on 5'6" maybe 5'7", he's still taller than his son and he uses that height to his advantage. "If you ever do this again, I will tear your head off. Understand?"

"Yeah, I do," Daniel nods, his face full of remorse. "Um.."

"Um?"

"What do I call you?" he asks with a meek look toward the detective.

"You can stick with Flynn until you decide to try something else."

"Okay, uh Flynn could you keep my mom from killing me?"

"You're gonna owe me, kid. Now call her."

Daniel's call goes to voicemail, so he immediately sends a text. He wants to go home, but Flynn tells him they are staying put and eating pizza. When Danny starts to doze, Flynn guides him down the hall to the room Jesse uses on the rare times he's over. He watches his son kick off his shoes and fall on the bed, asleep in minutes. "Guess running away is hard work after all," Andy smirks, closing the door before heading back to the living room. He picks up his phone to call Sharon when Danny's phone starts to ring.

"I'm on my way," she rushes out as soon as she hears the call connect. "Okay, don't you dare move."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Flynn, where's Danny? Why do you have his phone? Put him on right now!"

"Danny is asleep, so no, I won't put him on. He's ok and since you're on your way you can see for yourself when you get here."

"Why is he at your apartment and how do I get there?"

Flynn rolls his eyes at her quick fire questions, reminding himself that she is a distraught mother and so he has to tread lightly. He takes a breath and gives her directions, then hangs up, grabs a slice of pizza and waits for the storm that's coming.

Sharon is a whirlwind when she hits the steps leading to his door. "Calm down," Andy says, meeting her in the doorway. "He's asleep and I think you should just let him stay that way."

"Get out of my way, Flynn."

"Sharon, don't," he grabs her as she tries to go past him, spinning her around just inside the living room.

"I mean it, Flynn, you do not want in the middle of this! Now let me go!" she seethes, struggling to get away from him. He tightens his hold on her wrists, clamping her hands behind her back at her waist. Sharon dances away from him, trying to sidestep her way down the hall.

"Take a breath, Sharon. He's ok. He was just stupid, you know, the way Provenza can be sometimes."

"No, he doesn't get off that easy," she scowls, trying to pull and twist her arms free of him. Flynn grips her tighter. "That hurts."

"So stop fighting me," he replies. "What are you going to do anyway? You know you can't really strangle him."

"I can strangle him a little." Sharon huffs, sending some of the hair that has slipped to cover her face flying. Flynn can't hold back his grin.

"And you! How long has he been here? Why didn't you call me?"

"Come again?" Flynn cocks his head, then quickly maneuvers toward the kitchen when Sharon lunges for the hallway. Their momentum carries them toward his small kitchen table, slamming Sharon's back against the retro metal frame. "Shit, sorry, sorry," he says, letting go of one arm to grab her shoulder and pull her back. Sharon pushes off him, doing her best to get around him. "Oh! Fuck no you don't," Flynn blocks her with his knee, trapping Sharon between his body and the table.

"Lieutenant!"

"Andy."

"Asshole."

"Just when exactly did all this become my fault?"

"Since you won't let me see my son," Sharon's voice is low and worse than if she were yelling, because if she were yelling he'd dismiss her as being homicidal.

"You mean since I won't let you do bodily harm to our son." Flynn notices he's breathing just as hard as she is, their breaths coming in quick shallow intakes. Her face is flushed, her eyes dangerous behind the dark frames of her glasses. When Sharon bolts again Flynn grabs her round her waist with both hands and picks her up, sitting her on the table. The quick move throws her, giving him enough time to brace his hands on her legs and pin her in place. "Now for godsake calm down."

"My son has been missing all day," Sharon spits out, her words on the verge of hysteria as she pushes at Flynn's shoulders, "and you expect me to calm down." Tears threatening to spill, she jerks at her glasses, tossing them on the table as she wipes at her eyes.

"He's ok, Sharon, and I promise I laid into him the second I walked in and saw him here. But he's ok. And you're going to be ok. Just take a breath."

"Stop telling me to calm down! You started this, you, you bastard."

"What happened to asshole?" Flynn says with a smirk that sends the blaze in Sharon's eyes to an all consuming level. Mentally he reminds himself that even a sarcastic smirk is not a wise move when she's in such a state.

"If it hadn't been for you and that damn Provenza! Why did you do this to me?" She slaps at his shoulder, balling her fist to hit him, once, twice and then again for good measure. 'Danny was right,' Flynn thinks as he winces from the blow, 'she does have a mean right hook.' Her physical attack, which although not pleasant, doesn't hurt him but it does flair his annoyance.

"Me do this to you? Why didn't you answer the damn phone or, I don't know, take a few minutes to send a text that explained more than I'll tell you later!" He grabs her arm, jerking her just enough to let her know he's doing his best to control his own anger. "You weren't the only one in the dark and worried out of your mind! I didn't know what was going on with either of you!"

The intensity in his eyes causes Sharon to swallow whatever comeback she intended to say. Staring down at her staring back up at him, seeing her dark green blouse wrinkled, her hair disheveled and her gray skirt skewed, Flynn does the first thing that pops in his mind.

"You make me crazy," he says before clamping his lips to hers. Sharon squeals, the sound muffled against his mouth, and pounds her fits into his sides at least twice before gathering up his shirt and holding tight. "Don't ever do that to me again," Flynn mumbles against her lips, his fingers moving to cup the back of her head and hold her close to him. Sharon kisses back, hard and urgent, in an effort to stem the tears and raw emotion threatening to consume her. Hands in his hair, she holds him to her, as if he is an anchor that will prevent her from drifting away. Flynn deepens the kiss, brushing his hand along her sides as he tightens his hold on her waist. Sharon hums, leaning into him, lightly nipping at his lower lip then turning softer, gentle with her kisses.

Flynn eases back, brushing his lips against hers before gathering up the courage to inch away from her. He slides his hands to Sharon's shoulders, asking, "okay?"

She shakes her head. "Is he really okay?"

Flynn nods, "he's confused and probably did the most boneheaded thing he could, but he's okay. Not a scratch or hair out of place. I'm sorry he did that to you."

"I'm sorry I didn't ask you for help." Sharon's lip quivers, her eyes watering.

"And about calling me a bastard?"

"Don't push it."

"Can I let you down?"

"Is he in the first or second door on the right?" Sharon asks and she shifts as if she is going to get down from the table.

Flynn sighs, "Seriously?"

"You do not understand what he did to me," she replies, the fire in her eyes edging back. Flynn cups her face and stares at her, trying to think of something to say. Sharon uses his hesitancy to make another move off the table. Muttering another curse, Flynn pushes her back into place, muffling whatever annoyed reply she attempts to make with a kiss. Sharon balls up the front of his button-up shirt in her fist, not sure if she wants to push him away or pull him closer. Letting out a sound that is near primal, she pushes against Flynn's chest with one hand while pulling him back to her with her other.

He mumbles her name against her lips, his hand cupping the back of her hair, tangling the strands in his fingers. He could kiss her for forever if she'd let him. "You can't strangle him," he whispers, holding her in place. She grabs his waist, pulling him closer.

"I could really hate you," she replies, leaning hard into him. The move brings her closer to the table's edge. Flynn pushes her back, his hand sliding to the hem of her skirt and then under it.

"Oh my my," he says, positioning himself between her legs. "I've been thinking about this for too long." He runs his hand further under the gray fabric and to cup her hip.

"Have you?" Sharon shivers at his touch. His mouth teases hers as she starts to feel her anger recede. "You sure he's asleep?" she murmurs against Flynn's cheek.

"I think so." He opens his eyes, seeing Sharon Raydor instead of a wounded wildcat bent on destruction. "Can I let you go?"

"What if you don't," she says, her hormones still overriding her common sense as she returns his kiss. Flynn grips her hip and pulls her tight against him, his lips venturing down her throat as she grabs his shoulder to keep her balance.

"Bedroom?"

"I'm good here," he replies, his thumb hooking then pulling at her panties. He moves just enough to slip them down her legs and onto the floor. "Little help?" Flynn grins as he starts unbuttoning her blouse. Sharon goes for the buttons on his shirt, making quick work of undressing him and pushing the fabric off his shoulders. While Flynn cups her breasts, she loosens his belt and unzips his pants. He pushes at her shirt, then at her bra, not waiting for her to unhook the back, instead pushing his fingers under the material to caress her flesh.

She sighs at the feel of his touch and wraps her leg around his as she pulls his lips to hers. Flynn hikes her skirt as far up her thighs as it will go as she pushes down his boxers and guides him into her. Sharon bites her lip, her fingers biting into his shoulder as he pushes his way inside.

She isn't sure how long she leans on him afterwards, but her breathing is steadier when she finally raises her head.

"You calmer now?" Flynn quips.

"Not really," she replies.

"Homicidal?" Flynn asks as he grabs a nearby towel, handing it to her before helping her to her feet.

"Not so much," Sharon says as she cleans up and puts her clothes back in place. "You do have a bed, right?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Good. Mind if I sleep over?" He gives her a long once over which makes her quirk her brow and take up her familiar stance with hands on hips. "What?"

"Should I hide the knives?"

Sharon rolls her eyes. "You're safe," she quips.

"And the kid?"

She takes a moment, as if giving it serious thought and that concerns him. "Nah, I can't figure a way out of it, so," Sharon sighs as if in defeat, "I guess he can live, too." Flynn just stares at her.

"Was that a joke?"

She doesn't answer, just cocks her head and offers a small grin. "I want to look in on him. First or second door?"

"First," Flynn says after another long moment. "That was a joke, right?"

"I'm unarmed," she replies, slipping past him.


	9. Chapter 9

Part 13

"Mmm, what time is it," Sharon squints as the first faint rays of morning break through the window.

"Five."

As Sharon rolls on her side to look over at him, Flynn fluffs up a pillow and leans back, reaching out to play with her hair. "Sleepy?" She shakes her head. "Hungry?" Sharon grins. "Not for food?" She shakes her head again, running her fingers along his chest then under the sheet at his waist. "You wicked woman."

"I hear the most wicked one ever," she smirks, leaning up to pull him into a kiss.

"How the hell did I end up with Sharon Raydor in my bed," Flynn says, rolling on his back so that she settles on his waist.

"You led her here."

"How do I keep her here?"

"Is that what you want?" She cocks her head, a serious expression darkening her eyes. Flynn runs his fingers through her hair, brushing it away from her face.

"Instant family?"

She frowns and looks away, saying "That's not, I didn't mean…"

"No, it's a fair question." He studies her, licking his lips as he takes her in. "I want to get to know you and Danny. I want, I just want to follow this wherever it goes." Sharon toys with the salt and pepper colored hairs on his chest, letting his words sink in.

"I can agree to that," she says, remaining serious at the sight of the healing white line from when he was attacked just a few months ago. She traces the line, her mind replaying the sight of him on that night. "I didn't tell you, but seeing you that night, the night you called me and there was all that blood…" Sharon ducks her head, hiding behind a wave of her long hair. "I don't know why – I can usually handle it better but that night…"

He brushes at her chin with his thumb. "So you really were concerned about me?"

"Until you got all pissy and in my face," she smiles, "at that point I contemplated shooting you myself."

Flynn chuckles, "so I make you crazy?"

Sharon nods, "very much so."

"Did I tell you thank you for that?" He frowns as she begins to shake her head. "Stupid me." He sighs, pushing her hair back from her face to look in her eyes. "Sharon, thank you." She places her hand over his, intertwining their fingers as she leans down to kiss him.

"So we have a couple of hours, huh?"

"Give or take."

"Well then," she wiggles backwards, causing Flynn to draw in a deep breath. "Let's not waste a minute."

While Sharon showers, Flynn heads to the kitchen to make coffee.

"Oh not good," he mumbles at the sight of a near empty fridge except for a few bottles of condiments, some cans of soda and a couple of bottles shy of a six pack. "Beer is not good for kids." Flynn ponders his absent food supply and, heading back to the bedroom, realizes a dash to the store is in order. Stopping by the bathroom door, he pokes his head in to say, "I've got to run out for a minute."

"What?" Sharon, hair full of soap, peeks through the shower curtain to see Andy smirking at her.

"Breakfast. What anything?"

"You cook?"

The shock in her voice makes him leer at her. "No, I buy."

Sharon's grin turns to a grimace as soap slips into her eye. She mutters a curse before moving under the spray, whatever request she might have obscured by the water. Flynn huffs out a sigh, quickly dresses and heads out to the store, deciding to grab whatever breakfasty items he can find.

Sharon finds a clean pair of Flynn's boxers and an old baseball shirt to put on after towel drying her hair. Padding out to the kitchen, she makes sure to clean the table while waiting for the coffee to brew. She's enjoying a cup when Daniel staggers down the hallway, rubbing at his eyes, his hair out of place.

"Hey," he blinks a few times as if making sure it's really his mom at the table.

"Good morning."

Realizing she's wearing Flynn's clothes, and then realizing the couch doesn't have any blankets on it, Daniel begins to smirk. "So, uh, you slept over too, huh?" His eyebrows actually do that little up down, up down move.

After taking another sip of her coffee, she nods saying, "yes I did." But her tone has an edge to it as she glares at him over her mug, daring him to make another smart remark.

Daniel sobers, the grin disappearing as he slumps in a chair next to her. "Still pissed at me?"

"Royally."

"Okay, I've got cereal, instant oatmeal, bananas, some other fruit, yogurt, that granola stuff," Flynn says, coming in the front door and rounding the short corner to the kitchen. He sits down two brown bags and starts unloading his haul. "Eggs, anyone want eggs?"

"Cereal's fine," Daniel says, then with a glance at Sharon he adds, "Um, thanks for letting me stay over, um, Dad."

Flynn nearly drops the carton of eggs, but is saved by Sharon's quick reflexive move. She also catches his eye, shrugging and giving him a 'watch him, he's tricky' look when Flynn flicks his gaze away from Daniel. Flynn clears his throat, managing to eventually reply, "Yeah, well, next time you tell your mom first, right?"

"Oh don't worry, Daniel and I will be going over quiet a few new rules later," she replies, looking through the grocery bags and picking out a banana and a croissant. Flynn and Danny exchange another glance, both still weary of Sharon.

"Right well, you need a bowl," Flynn says to Danny. "I have those, somewhere." He looks at his cabinets, saying "ha" before opening one on the far right. "And a spoon, spoon, spoons are…"

"Here," Sharon holds up hers which Flynn takes, flashing her a smile as he passes it to Danny.

"Our first family breakfast," the kid chances the quip. Sharon cuts her eyes at him, but slowly grins, which lets Danny know it's safe for him to breathe again. For the moment. He starts in on his cereal, but feels his mother staring at him.

"Ma'am?"

"Are you about finished?"

Danny looks down at his half-eaten breakfast then back up at his mother, shaking his head. Flynn, coffee in hand and chewing on a bagel, leans against the counter. When Daniel looks his way, he shrugs.

"You best be getting ready if you plan on changing clothes before going to school," Sharon says, her eyes on her croissant as she tears off a bit of the bread before eating it.

"Um, alright, we're going home first?" Daniel asks as he grabs his bowl and gets up from the table.

"No, you are going to take the bus. I think you know where the stop is from your little adventure yesterday."

"Sharon," Flynn starts, but bites his tongue when she turns her glare on him.

"Daniel, you know where the stop is?" she asks, still not looking at her son. Daniel nods, then squeaks out a yes. "And you charged your phone?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Then you'll have no reason to ignore my calls."

"No ma'am," Daniel replies, his appetite long gone as he stares at his mother, his best repentant expression in place.

"I expect you to be at school for the required amount of time today, and, after you walk home, the lawn needs to be mowed."

"But the landscapers…"

"Will be told that they have a helper today. Javier will be so happy to know he only has to trim the hedges and will not mind if you borrow his pushmower." Daniel starts to frown. "Do you have something to say?" The sight of the fury just at the edge of her stare makes Daniel swallow hard and inch closer to Flynn.

"No ma'am," he shakes his head as he gets out of his chair. He dumps the remainder of his cereal in the trash, places the empty bowl and spoon in the sink and begins to back out of the room. "I should get going, like you said." In a flash he is down the hall.

Flynn raises his eyebrow. "What?" Sharon asks.

"You really would have strangled him if I hadn't been here."

She shrugs, sipping at her coffee. "Only a little. But lucky for him you were here to calm me down."

"Well, here," Flynn glances at the table as he pulls a chair round, "wasn't really where you calmed down." Turning the back of the chair to face her, he straddles the seat and leans close to Sharon, a schoolboy grin on his face. "Did I tell you how good you look in my shirt?"

"I don't think you did."

"You look very good in my shirt," he whispers, brushing his lips against hers.

"At least it was clean," she returns, a smile on her lips, "I could recommend a wonderful maid."

"Snob," Flynn cracks, cupping the back of her head with his hand and pulling her lips closer to his. Sharon mumbles something that sounds like her favorite word to call him just as Danny rushes past, calling, an eww, love you, and goodbye before he goes out the door.

Sharon finishes the kiss, licking at her lips with a contemplative expression. Flynn frowns. "You're thinking again."

"What?"

"That look," he says, reaching across the table for his coffee cup and grabbing a pastry before glancing back at her, "it's the one you get when you're about to come down on us for something."

She rolls her eyes at him, picking up her cup and moving to refill it. "I didn't say anything."

"And again, I said you were thinking it." With her back to him, Sharon pours more coffee, taking time to add sugar and cream. "So?"

"He called you Dad," she says, her eyes locked on Flynn's generic wooden cabinets with their fake brass handles.

"Because I saved his life," he quips, elbows propped on the table and his gaze locked on her form, still amazing even in his grey Dodgers shirt and plaid boxers. "Since when did you get shy?" This makes her frown and turn to face him as he knew it would.

"What we did, it wasn't good."

Flynn's lips scrunch together as he squints, "Didn't hear you complaining between those cute little moans and, 'oh yes, please right there' commands." He dodges the hand towel she throws at him.

"That's not what I meant," she scowls.

He moves to her, taking her coffee cup and sitting in down on the counter behind her before bracing his hands on the counter on either side of her. "I know what you meant, but teasing you is such fun." He gives her a quick kiss, smiles, then leans in for a longer one. Sharon slips her hands round his waist to pull him closer.

"We're going to have to tell them," she mumbles, each word filled with dread. Flynn stills, the reaction giving away exactly what he didn't want to tell her. "Flynn?"

"Um, wow, I think it's late and I need to shower…" He turns away, but Sharon grabs his arm.

"You didn't."

Flynn avoids her gaze and becomes suddenly interested in his feet.

"Andy."

He clears his throat, a wave of empathy for his son washing over him as Sharon turns her intense glare his way.

"Who did you tell? Please god don't let it have been—" He scratches at his nose, eyes trained on his own abandoned coffee cup. "Provenza! Flynn!"

"He was in the car with Sanchez."

"Julio Sanchez, too!" Sharon's eyes flare, her hands firmly on her hips as she glowers at him. Perhaps it's because he knows she doesn't have her gun holster on and that he can outrun her to her purse that Flynn begins to smirk. "Why are you smiling?"

"Do you even know how hot you look right now?"

"You are not changing the subject," she replies, her annoyance at him increasing as he calmly moves back to her, his eyes laughing. "And I will not allow you to use that, that," she stammers, her concentration broken as Flynn wraps his hands around her waist and nudges her closer against the counter.

"That what?" he says, leaning down to nibble at her ear. His breath against her skin makes her shiver, igniting flickers of heat in places she'd rather not be distract by while in mid-rant.

"Oh so not fair," she whispers in defeat.

Flynn kisses her neck, slowly working his way back up to her lips. "You know us. The last thing the guys will do is use any of this against me or you."

"Or you," she snaps back, "And what do you mean by 'this?' What else have you told them?"

"What is there to tell?"

Sharon stares at him a moment, her lips pursed. "So they know about Danny, but not about us now."

"Now just happened last night, and I can assure you that I have a solid alibi for my whereabouts when out of your sight." He smirks, eyes twinkling and she can't help but smile, albeit a faint one.

"Solid?"

"To your high standards."

"It best stay that way."

Flynn bounces his brow at her and nods.

"Fine. But if I hear one crack out of Provenza," she gives him a stern glare, inching her thigh between his legs and applying the slightest hint of an unwelcomed pressure, "you will be held accountable. Understand?" Flynn swallows hard, taking a second longer than needed to nod.

"You are a ball-buster."

"And don't you forget it," she smirks, lightly kissing him. "You better go shower, and I need to get going myself." She caresses his cheek, feeling the stubble on his chin. "Thank you for Danny." He smiles, pulling her into another long kiss.

"I'll see you at work, Captain?"

"Yes you will, Lieutenant."

"I look forward to it," he grins as she walks away to gather her things and he heads off to shower and change. "You can wear those out if you'd like. The shirt really does look better on you anyway."


End file.
